


Trails

by LadyGunslinger



Category: Fallout (Video Games)
Genre: Gen, Novelization
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-09-16
Updated: 2013-11-20
Packaged: 2017-12-26 19:43:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 30,219
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/969575
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyGunslinger/pseuds/LadyGunslinger
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In the town of Novac lives Courier Six, a hero of the Mojave. A famed figure whose very name inspires awe and danger. When a girl meets Courier Six for the first time, she discovers heroism is not always what the legends make it out to be.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Visitor

Tiani Strong was not a woman who complained often. But after her very first encounter with the patron upstairs, she found a little complaining not only necessary, but well-deserved.

Tiani wandered into the little town of Novac, delirious from heat and terrified of her own shadow, a week before the patron's arrival. She had spied the motel from the road, mostly because of the comic-looking dinosaur perched out front like a colossal guardian. She was reluctant to stop even for a few hours, but the motel offered a chance to beg water from the innkeeper and to rest in the shade where the oppressive heat could not find her. She had spent a long, hard month in the Mojave Wasteland, and needed a respite more than anything. She lacked the caps to rent a room for even a single night, but the owner had taken pity on her, and offered a deal. Tiani was loath to stay in one place for long, but the innkeeper's offer was simply too good to refuse.

In exchange for a room free of charge, Tiani maintained the front desk area, bought food from wandering merchants to serve to guests, and cleaned out the motel rooms when occupants finally moved on. It was hard job, but it kept her safe and out of the Wasteland. There wasn't much more she could ask for.

Miss Crawford gave the girl the bottom-floor room closest to the office. It was small and dim, the only furniture being a double bed, an old refrigerator, and a few battered cabinets. The bathroom fixtures were dirty and produced gray, irradiated water. But it was safe, it was hidden, and most of all, it felt like home.

Tiani developed a schedule. Every morning, Miss Crawford woke her at eight AM sharp with a bottle of purified water and some Sugar Bombs. The food was old, but it was nutritional and available. Tiani's workday began at nine. By the end of the day, she was too tired to do much more than pass out in her bed. Maintaining the motel and preparing meals was harder than it looked, and Tiani had never been strong. The first week was all about building up her strength, because God knew she would need it when she, too, moved on.

It only took a week for Tiani to fall in love with the place. Miss Crawford turned out to be a delightful individual, very sweet and personable. She gradually introduced her young employee to the other citizens of Novac: Ranger Andy, the cop with the bum leg; Boone, the sniper who spent all night in the dinosaur's mouth; and many other men and women who all bore similar weaponry along with their hard expressions. They trusted Boone and Manny to keep them safe, but of course, there was no shame in being prepared. Life in the Mojave Wasteland had conditioned them to accept years of fear, intimidation, and heartache.

For all the hardships in the Mojave, Tiani still loved Novac, and could not be more grateful for the Dino Dee-Lite Motel and for Miss Crawford.

At least until the Courier returned.

It was 22:49 when Tiani was jolted out of a sound sleep by the sound of a door slamming closed. Instantly awake, she wrenched the 9mm from under her pillow and pointed it at the front door with a hand that trembled from alarm and adrenaline. The sheets tangled around her slender body, threatening to trip her up if she dared attempt to stand.

Her door had not opened. The sound had come from above.

Warily, Tiani put the 9mm back under the pillow. The damn thing was unloaded anyway. Boone had given it to her as a kind of macabre housewarming gift, mumbling something about "the interest of security." He had included three boxes of ammo, but Tiani refused to load the gun until it was needed. It never occurred to her that, if she ended up in any danger, she would probably be dead by the time she loaded the gun.

Above her head, Tiani heard a series of softer thuds, like boots on carpet. Cold, aware of goose bumps rippling across her skin, she sat very still and listened. There was the sound of a cabinet slamming closed, a bottle shattering, and something heavy being dropped. After that, there was a pause in which the only thing Tiani could hear was her own fast, frightened breathing. Then there was another crash, accompanied by the squeak of springs. It sounded like the occupant, whoever he or she was, had collapsed onto the bed. Then silence.

Tiani's heart beat hard in her chest. She sat bolt upright for a few more minutes, listening hard for any noises. But there was only silence from above and from outside. After awhile, her breathing calmed. She cuddled up to her pillow and closed her eyes, willing sleep to return.

Suddenly a loud, blaring noise filled her room. Tiani shot up, awake again, pressing her palms to her ears. "What the hell?" she wondered aloud. She could hear the Ink Spots beneath the scratchy static. She collapsed back onto her bed, holding her aching head. Could this get any worse?

Of course it could. The occupant started to sing.

The voice was harsh and slurry with too little sleep or too much beer, yet Tiani could understand the words if she listened hard enough. After all, _I Don't Want to Set the World on Fire_ was recognizable enough to residents of the Wastes. Tiani clamped her pillow over her ears. _For the love of God, shut up._

Tiani tried her hardest to ignore her mounting desire to go upstairs and brain the drunken moron in the room above. She closed her eyes and prayed for silence.

Some time later, the occupant above started to snore. The radio faded into a wash of static. Tiani found the sound comforting. She released her sadly squashed pillow and laid her head upon it. She slept.

)-(

The next morning she awoke to the sound of light taps on her door. Moaning, Tiani stumbled out of bed and shoved the door open, revealing Miss Crawford. The older woman carried a metal plate piled high with Fancy Lads Snack Cakes. One corner of her mouth twitched upward in a half smirk as she took in Tiani's rumpled nightclothes, puffy face, and messy hair. "Bad night?" she asked.

Tiani groaned and tried to flatten the haystack on top of her head. As much as she pawed at it, the thick gold locks seemed to be unwilling to behave. "I didn't sleep a wink," she confessed. "It was . . . a bad night."

"Well come down in a bit. You need to make some coffee. There's a whole caravan of merchants coming in from Goodsprings today." And with that, Miss Crawford handed Tiani her breakfast and went back downstairs.

Tiani nibbled on a cake as she dressed. As she slipped on her worn boots, she listened hard for the sound of movement upstairs. There was only silence. Shrugging, she made her way downstairs into the lobby and began her workday.

The merchants from Goodsprings kept Tiani busy most of the morning. They were good-natured people who greatly appreciated the coffee she'd made. While Miss Crawford set out buckets of water for the Brahmin, Tiani traded trinkets for Stimpacks and purified water. The merchants were courteous enough to clean up after their Brahmin. Many of them opted to rest for a night in one of the motel rooms. Tiani had to clean out the rooms before they could be inhabited.

Around noon, Tiani and Miss Crawford took a break in the lobby. Tiani was exhausted and dropped into a chair the moment the door closed. Wasteland heat was intense. She was not a very strong girl, never had been, and worried that she wouldn't be able to last the rest of the day.

Miss Crawford laughed when she saw her exhausted assistant. "Tired?" she asked her.

"Extremely," said Tiani, making a face.

"Well, we made quite a few caps' profit," said Miss Crawford, smiling grimly. "It'll see us through a couple weeks. We need some more herbs for the coffee."

Just then, there was a sound of thuds coming from the metal roof above their heads. They were deafening in the small space. Tiani looked up, shocked. "The hell is that?!"

"The Courier," answered Miss Crawford. She seemed unaffected. She scrubbed the rusty Sunset Sarsaparilla machine with a wet rag. "This rust just doesn't want to come off . . . ."

The sound made its way across the roof, and only a moment later, Tiani felt a burst of hot, dry air at her back as the door opened. She stood up. A figure stood in the doorway, wearing in a full-length duster. Tiani couldn't see his face. He closed the door and settled himself at one of the tables. Then he looked over at Miss Crawford. Tiani squeaked. His eyes seemed to flash out at her from the darkness underneath his faded hat, huge and blood-red. Then she recognized the flat, round discs of color as a pair of Pre-War goggles. There was a tattered red bandanna hanging around his neck, obscuring his mouth.

He put his booted feet up on the table and rocked back in his chair. "Jeannie May!" he called, as though he sat on the opposite side of a vast hall rather than a tiny lobby. "Bottle of Scotch, huh?"

Tiani expected Miss Crawford to have harsh words for the Courier. Instead she was shocked to see her laugh and take a dusty bottle from beneath the front desk. "Anything for you." She placed the bottle on the table beside the Courier. "On the house, hon." Eagerly, he yanked it open and began to drink. Miss Crawford went back to scrubbing the Sunset Sarsaparilla machine.

Tiani watched the Courier for a few moments as he pulled out a cigarette, lit it, and took a long drag. His boots twitched, as though in time to music only he could hear. Tiani eyed the gun strapped to his thigh. She wondered if he could use it properly. She wandered over to Miss Crawford, not wanting to look at the Courier any longer. His flat crimson stare unnerved her, and she had a feeling he was watching her every move. She leaned over Miss Crawford's shoulder and whispered, "Who is that guy?"

"A Wasteland wanderer," replied Miss Crawford, squeezing out her wet rag. "He woke up in Goodsprings with no memory of his name, his task, or his location."

"Woke up? What happened to him?"

"He got shot in the head."

Tiani's eyes widened. "Oh my God. By who?"

Miss Crawford shrugged. "I don't know much. He came down here about a month ago, started helping around town. He was the one who let us know about the situation up at Ranger Station Charlie. Now he's cleaning out the REPCONN facility, as a favor to Manny. Guess he's tired of wasting his bullets on monsters." She chuckled softly and dropped her rag in a bucket of Abaxro Cleaner and water. "He's in 107. I gave him the key because he's so helpful."

107\. The room upstairs. Tiani clenched her teeth. "He was playing his radio _loud_ last night. I thought I was going to kill him!"

"You wouldn't want to kill him," cautioned Miss Crawford. "Not only is he sort of a local hero, he's got one hell of an eye. Your brains would be drying on the wall before you got halfway into his room!" She chuckled again, then paused. "Try not to get killed, all right? I'd hate to lose my assistant. And if he wants something, give it to him. He's a valuable asset."

Tiani frowned. "All right." She helped Miss Crawford carry the heavy bucket outside, and then began to tidy up the lobby on her own. The Courier did not move. He watched her work with an irritating detachment. He drank and smoked and stared up at the ceiling. Tiani straightened the papers on the front desk and swept the threadbare carpet. The Courier remained still. His mere presence was annoying; he seemed to give off a goading energy like a bad smell. The longer Tiani worked in silence, the madder she felt. His disinterest and unwillingness to help nagged at her.

Finally she could stand it no longer. She turned around and put her hands on her hips. "I don't suppose you can do something to be useful?" she demanded.

His head slowly turned. "I'm on break," he said coolly.

"Breaking from _what?_ "

" _My_ job," he said, shrugging. He took his gun out of his holster and a rag from his pocket. "I'm working."

"Well you could earn your keep around here!" she snapped.

"I'm a guest here at this little hellhole," he grunted. He broke the 9mm down and scattered the parts across the table, then began to clean them individually.

Tiani scowled. "Free of charge. The least you can do is help Miss Crawford clean the other rooms."

"Kid, I'm _busy_ ," he said again. His hands never stopped moving; he polished and reconstructed his weapon with an absentminded dexterity she had never seen before. "Can't you see that?"

She rolled her eyes. Anger crackled along her skin. "Well since you're _so busy_ , is there something I can do for you?"

He didn't look up. "Another bottle of Scotch."

Tiani didn't want to give him any more alcohol, but she knew that Miss Crawford would want her to appease him. "Wow," she mumbled. She grabbed a second bottle from the desk and slammed it down on the table, making the gun components rattle. "Be a little more grateful, would you?!" She had decided that he was the biggest pest she'd ever encountered.

The Courier glanced at Tiani. "Kid," he said, "don't bother me."

"How about you not bothering _me_ at night?!"

The Courier chuckled. This prick finding something humorous in her words was enough to make Tiani's blood boil. "Kept you up, did I?"

"You were so damn loud!" Tiani fumed, stamping her foot.

"I was drunk," the Courier admitted. He threw down his rag and sat up straight. "Now if you'll excuse me, I've gotta see a man about a task. Good day." He stood and strode past Tiani without another word.


	2. Houseguest

The Courier became a part of Tiani's day-to-day schedule. He woke up at noon, smoked and gossiped until four, then departed from Novac until almost two in the morning. He drank and swapped stories with other guests over a hand of Caravan. She had no idea what his business was. She hadn't spoken to him since that day in the lobby. A few evenings she saw him disappear off in the direction of Helios ONE, but mainly he took the path up to the REPCONN facility. She wondered what he did all day that was so important. He seemed like a loudmouthed drunk to her, not some kind of Wasteland hero. He woke her almost every night staggering into his room and turning on the radio as loud as he could, always the same Ink Spots song. Tiani hadn't heard it in _years_ before she met the Courier, and now it played incessantly. She fantasized about putting an ax through his radio and blowing up the station that broadcasted that song with a nice brick of C4.

One day, the Courier left and did not return.

A week passed, then two. Tiani found herself looking up every time the front door opened. The Courier did not appear. At nights she lay awake listening for the sound of footsteps. But there were none. The radio remained silent. Somehow, it made Tiani feel lonely.

The days slipped by in a haze of monotony. Wastelanders came and went; the supply of money rose and fell. Tiani stopped watching for the Courier. It was somewhat of a relief to not deal with his slurred singing, intense card games, and occasional fistfights in the parking lot. Slowly, Tiani built up her strength again. Muscles began to form under wind-roughened skin now tan from the relentless sun. She began to consider moving on. It was time, she reasoned. She had been in Novac almost a month, and as much as she loved the little town, there were too many dangers awaiting her if she stayed. It was only a matter of time.

One night she awoke in the darkness with a pounding heat and the coppery taste of fear in her mouth. All of her limbs thrummed like live wires. She pulled the blanket around herself, trying to bring a modicum of warmth to her icy body. Blood pounded in her ears. The tiniest noises were loud enough to deafen her. Paranoia brushed the edges of her consciousness. "Damn," she said aloud. The word echoed flatly in the little room. She sat up. Pacing sounded like a good idea. Anything to make the itchy, restless feelings fade.

So she paced, up and down, on strong legs tanned and smooth from weeks of work. The blanket hung off her shoulders like a shawl. She paced and paced, but the restlessness didn't go away.

Finally, she decided to walk outside in the parking lot. Boone was awake and alert up in the dinosaur's mouth. He would keep away danger. She opened her door as quietly as possible so as not to disturb the other patrons and slipped outside out into a world of silvery moonlight.

The parking lot was cool and quiet. Tiani breathed a sigh of relief. The air wasn't scratchy and close. Out here she could at least relax a little. It was so _hot_ in her room. Tiani had never liked heat, but in the Mojave, there were few places to escape from it. Outside afforded a decent breeze. She breathed deep the scent of dust and hardy desert plants. Winter was coming. It didn't mean much here; the temperatures didn't decrease by much during the day compared to other seasons. Nights, though . . . nights could be brutal.

Tiani sat down on the pavement outside her door. The worn concrete pressed into the backs of her thighs. She ignored the discomfort and arranged her blanket across her legs. _Time . . . to just breathe._

She observed the stars in their eternal, heavenly dance. There had been a time in her life when stars had seemed cold and terrible to her. Now they were comforting pinpoints of light in a velvety darkness.

They looked beautiful when you weren't viewing them through a chain-link fence.

Tiani suppressed those thoughts with uncommon viciousness. Tears sprang into her eyes. Her expression hardened. There would be no crying tonight. There wasn't time for it. She concentrated hard on swallowing her sadness. Gradually, the feeling faded behind its veil. Sorrow was a tricky thing, always trying to pop out and hurt her when she was vulnerable. But not tonight.

Still absorbed in her nighttime viewing of the world, Tiani cast her eyes around the little circle of houses. There was no light leaking out of the boarded-up windows. She glanced down at the pavement, admiring the shine of the concrete beneath its light coat of dust. Her gaze rested on a little spot on the ground not five feet away. It shimmered in the glow of the moon. Tiani stood up and crept over to it. "What the hell is that?" she muttered under her breath. It was opaque; too cloudy to be booze from under Miss Crawford's desk, too runny to be the primitive ink some of the wandering traders sold. It didn't smell like chemicals, so it couldn't be Stimpak fluid: those had a ridiculously strong scent similar to decaying flowers. She would have smelled it by now. It was almost suffocating when the syringe broke.

It took her a few moments to realize the substance was actually blood.

Horror and revulsion crawled along her spine. She took an unconscious step back. The little spot of blood was the first of many; there was an entire trail up the splintery steps. Tiani steeled herself and wrapped the blanket around her shoulders. Time to get to the bottom of this mystery.

The trail of blood continued up the stairs and around the corner. There was a bloody handprint on the rail. Tiani shuddered. Someone was bleeding badly.

The trail led into the Courier's room.

A confused burst of joy exploded in Tiani's heart, accompanied by bewilderment and unease. The Courier was back! When had he gotten home? How? How badly was he bleeding? The questions roared in her mind, piling on top of one another. Strangely, she found herself relieved that the blood trail disappeared under the door. It meant the Courier was at least healthy enough to walk. She knocked on the door. "Sir? Are you all right?"

Stupid question. Tiani cursed herself inwardly. However, a little flare of hope emerged when the lights glowed to life inside. There was a thump, a click, and the door swung open.

The Courier emerged from the brightness of his shabby motel room. The light inside threw his form into shadow, but Tiani could see the pronounced limp in his left leg. He leaned heavily against the metal doorframe, one hand pressed to his belly. The other hand held a full inhaler of Jet. "The _hell_ do you want?" he wheezed. His voice was gruff and strained.

"Courier Six!" she gasped. "You're bleeding!"

The Courier, damn him, was healthy enough to scoff. "Bah! I knew that already, little girl." She had a feeling he was rolling his eyes at her, but she couldn't see. He was still wearing those stupid red goggles. "I ain't got Stimpaks left."

"That'll kill you." Tiani pointed to the Jet.

"It helps," mumbled the Courier. He almost sounded ashamed. "It stops the shaking."

"From what, addiction?" Tiani asked scathingly.

"No, from blood loss and exhaustion." The Courier sounded annoyed. "Girl, look. I'm busy."

"My name is not 'girl,' it's Tiani," she retorted. "And I happen to have a Stimpak if you need it, but I'll not deal with your nastiness, Courier Six!"

"And my name ain't 'Courier Six,'" the man said. He sounded even surlier now. "And uh . . . yeah. That Stimpak would be great."

Tiani had to smile at his attempt to be civil. "I'll go get it. Sit very still." She raced back down to her room and dug under her bed, eventually producing a little metal box. She flipped it open. Inside, along with a meager supply of caps, were five Stimpaks. She felt a little pang when she took one out. Her departure supplies couldn't shrink much more. She'd never be able to get out of Novac at this rate. But the Courier needed one. She didn't want his death on her conscience.

She slipped back upstairs and tapped on the closed door. The Courier reemerged and took the Stimpak from her hand without comment. With the other hand he ripped off the bottom of his Brahmin-hide shirt. Tiani gasped. The tough, sun-darkened skin beneath the rough leather was covered in a layer of pinkish scars. The newest wound was almost as wide as her hand, ragged and deep. Blood flooded out in what looked like gallons to Tiani's nauseated eyes.

The Courier didn't look up. He injected himself near where the skin gave way to pulsating, oozing flesh. The chemicals went to work at once. Tiani didn't know what was in those things, but by God, they worked fantastically. Slowly, the bleeding stopped. The edges of the wound smoothed out and began knitting together, replacing angry red heat with knotted white flesh. Now it was just one more stroke of ink on a human canvas, a testament to endless suffering and agony born from violence.

The Courier dry-mopped the remnants of blood off his belly with the scrap of shirt. "Damn," he grunted. He threw the bloody scrap into a little bin beside his bed. "That uh, that would have been bad." He peered at her. "Thanks kid."

"No problem, Mister Courier," responded Tiani politely as she walked to the door. "Now sir, I hate to ask, but I'm trying to get out of Novac; could you perhaps—"

The Courier shut the door in her face.

That night, he played _I Don't Want to Set the World on Fire_ for two straight hours. Tiani didn't sleep at all the rest of the night.

)-(

The next morning Miss Crawford delivered breakfast and the daily instructions to her door. Tiani crawled out of bed and got dressed, sulking the entire time. One Stimpak down and not even a decent night's rest in return. She cursed the Courier's name (whatever it may be) bitterly as she squeezed her small feet into boots. This was turning out to be just like the day she first met him. She hadn't even seen him today and she was already angry. Not even a decent _thank you._ Dear God. She wrenched the door open.

The Courier stood just outside, his fist upraised, as if to knock. His bulk loomed over the short girl. Tiani jumped back, startled. An awkward silence fell. Slowly, the Courier lowered his hand. "Kid," he began.

"Tiani," she told him.

"Tiani, right." He took a deep breath and tucked his hands in his pockets. "I uh, I wanted to . . . to say thanks. For last night. I uh, I probably would have been screwed if not for you. It . . . was a deeper wound than I thought at first."

Despite her distress over her dwindling Stimpak hoard, Tiani was touched. The curt man was at least trying to repay her in some way for his behavior. "What got you?" she asked, curious despite the previous night's revulsion.

"Got jumped by a handful of Vipers." The Vipers were a local raider gang. "I took care of 'em pretty good, but one of them had a nice machete. He got me pretty good before I blew his head off."

Tiani winced. "Nasty."

The Courier shrugged, as if they were discussing a broken fence instead of a human life. "What the hell am I supposed to do? He was gonna kill me. Almost succeeded, too."

"True," admitted Tiani. "Well, I'm glad you're alive, Courier Six."

He chuckled and tugged at the bandanna around his mouth. "Thanks." He took his other hand from his pocket. He appeared to be holding something. "I dunno if the merchants like you more than me, but . . . I felt this was in order." He slid a bulky bag made from some animal hide into her hand. She tugged it open. Inside were at least two hundred caps. She could buy five or six Stimpaks and have money left over. "That should pay for at least two, I think . . . they run me a lot of caps, but the merchants know I don't know jack about haggling . . . ."

"They don't cost this much." Tiani realized her jaw was gaping open and closed it. A light blush spread across her cheeks. _Good job, Tiani, look like a stupid Brahmin in front of this guy_. "Wow. Um, thank you, Courier Six."

"I told you last night, Girly," he admonished her. "My name ain't 'Courier Six.'"

"I know that," she said. "But you never told me what it _is_."

"'Course I did." He sounded perplexed. "I told you last night right before you went to go get me that Stimpak."

"Then what is it?" But the Courier didn't respond. He heaved a sigh and began to walk away, hands once more in his pockets. "Courier Six!"

"What the _hell_ , woman?!" he shouted, exasperation clear in every nuance of his voice. "I told you . . . ."

"No you didn't!" snapped Tiani.

The Courier threw up his hands. "Are you _deaf_?!"

 _He doesn't know he hasn't told me,_ Tiani realized. _What the hell's wrong with him?_ She gave up. Aloud she said, "Sorry. Guess I am."

He grunted. "Whatever."

Tiani decided to try mollifying him. After all, motel guests were supposed to be as content as one could be in a wasteland hell. And she _was_ grateful for the money. "Can I get you a bottle of vodka or something to start off your day?"

"Nah. Thins the blood. I'd take coffee though."

Tiani grinned. "I'll see if I can rustle up some."

And that was how Tiani and Courier Six went on a coffee date.

)-(

"So tell me about your job at REPCONN."

The cups of coffee had been drunk, the cigarettes (all Courier Six's) smoldered in the ashtray. Miss Crawford took her break in the form of a mid-afternoon nap at home, leaving Tiani and the Courier to hold down the fort until she awoke. The girl tidied up the lobby, just to keep herself busy, while the Courier messed around with the Sunset Sarsaparilla machine. He'd gone up to his room and returned with a huge bag of scrap electronics he kept in his closet. Apparently, he wasn't as bad at repairing equipment as he was at haggling.

"Manny wanted those goddamn Ghouls outta there." The Courier mock-shuddered. He was seated on the floor cross-legged, a wrench in one hand, a screwdriver in the other. "Those goddamn things are freaks."

"Don't call them freaks." Tiani hated it when people talked poorly of Ghouls. They were just like everyone else, except for their frightening appearance. "There are some intelligent ones."

"I met 'em," said the Courier. He pulled off the bottom panel on the sarsaparilla machine and began fiddling with something inside. "Jason Bright and his followers. Man glows like a goddamn barrel of nuclear waste."

Tiani frowned. "A Glowing One?"

"Yep. Crazy bastard. Mumbling something about the moon. But there's Nightkin in the basement, and until I can get rid of them, Bright and friends ain't moving." He swore loudly and dropped his screwdriver. "Goddamn thing!"

Tiani waited patiently until Courier Six regained control of himself. When he ceased muttering, she began to speak again. "So, you gotta kill the Nightkin?"

"Hell no. Too hard to kill. They've got like five feet on me. I'm gonna try sneaking past them and getting inside, see if there's anything I can use to take 'em down. Got some Stealth Boys in my virtual pack." The Pip-Boy's STORAGE function held up to 280 GB of equipment in what Vault-Tec referred to as "digital stasis." "I was looking for a couple more when that goddamn Viper party got me."

"So, you're living here until you can clear out the Nightkin and the Ghouls?"

"Yep," said the Courier. He carefully extracted a tiny widget from inside the machine. "I like Novac. It's . . . homey."

"Where did you live before?"

"Ehh, Primm, I think. Ya know, the place with the rollercoaster? I worked for the Mojave Express, so I must have lived somewhere near Primm."

Tiani raised her eyebrows. "You don't remember?"

The Courier straightened up and looked at her directly. It was a little eerie being looked over by a man whose face she couldn't see. She couldn't even read his eyes thanks to the goggles he still hadn't taken off. "I got a head full of memories that don't seem like my own," he said slowly. "I can remember . . . flashes. Of maybe home. Of maybe a childhood. But if I lived in Primm, New Vegas, Novac, Goodsprings, or up at the 188, God alone knows. Nobody seems to remember me, in any town. Or if they do, they ain't talking. Maybe I was in the NCR prison for an ungodly time. I really don't know. That's what all this time has been about: getting my memories back and recovering my strength. I can shoot all right now, but . . . it wasn't always like that."

Tiani fiddled with an empty Scotch bottle. "You woke up in Goodsprings, right?"

"Yeah, that robot dug me out. Victor. I don't trust him. I don't trust robots." He spoke casually, but Tiani sensed suspicion underneath. "He smiles too much. I don' trust a smiling man, and a smiling _robot_ is even worse. There's something up with him. I think there's a chip or something that's rusted in the God-blasted sun."

"What happened then?"

"Eh, I helped around town. They got a girl at the Prospector Saloon, took me out huntin' Geckos. Gave me a rifle. But I ain't welcome there anymore."

"Why not?"

"Never you mind," said Courier Six shortly. He slammed the panel back in place. The Sunset Sarsaparilla vending machine hummed and whirred to life, the lights on the front glowed. Tiani clapped her hands. The Courier chuckled. "I guess I'm good at something, huh?"

"You put your gun together," Tiani pointed out.

"I'm good with appliances," the Courier said. He sounded embarrassed. "I can't bargain worth a damn and I can't throw a grenade to save my life, but I can tinker with machines pretty good."

"Can you hack computers?"

He shrugged. "Eh. Too many numbers and letters. I prefer blowin' them up. I can pick locks though." He wiped his greasy, dusty hands on a rag. "So, what's your story?"

Tiani hesitated. "I came here about a month ago. And I became the assistant here. That's . . . about it."

"You said you were looking to leave here last night," he remarked.

"Well . . . I figured it's time."

"No clue why you'd wanna leave this place," he said. "It's . . . it's pretty much the least hellish of all the hellholes I've seen."

"I need to get out of here," she murmured. "I have my reasons."

"Eh?" He tilted his head, considered her a moment, and shrugged. "Your secrets are your own, then. I ain't asking. I got secrets aplenty I wouldn't trust you with."

Tiani accepted the comment with equanimity. After all, they'd only been on decent terms for a few hours. She wasn't willing to share her past with anybody, even him.

A silence fell, and Tiani thought the talking was done. She took the coffee cups from the table and prepared to wipe them out. Then the Courier spoke up again. His voice was much softer, and Tiani had to strain to hear him. "Ever since I came to Novac, I've considered it home. It's my base. I can leave my supplies upstairs and get peacefully drunk under a roof instead of under the stars. And there are friendly people. I prefer bein' alone most of the time, but everybody needs to be around others once in a while. Nobody's an island. And Novac is home to me now. Pretty sure I used to live in Primm, but, there ain't any interesting people there. I like it here."

"I like it here too," said Tiani softly.

"Then why leave?"

She hesitated. "There are . . . things . . . in my past I'd prefer not to talk about. I need to go away. I . . . ."

"You're in hiding, aren't you?"

She turned around to look at him, nearly dropping her coffee cup. "What makes you say that?" _Oh my God, how the hell did he know . . . .?_

"Just the way you act, sometimes." He shrugged. "You twitch when somebody opens the door. You're so damn eager to get outta here. Jeannie May told me you came here without any supplies. I mean, we ain't got a lot here, but most people come with a caravan or at least bring a pack. She had you pegged for a runaway, from one of the Legion camps, maybe?"

Tiani bit her lip. "Drop it, please?"

The Courier shrugged. "Suit yourself."

The door opened, and Jeannie May came in. She smiled when she saw Courier Six. "Well, you again! Good to see you. Can I getcha a cup of coffee?"

"Already had one, Missus," he said. He pulled his hat down farther on his head in some kind of respectful gesture. "I'll be seeing you."

He strode toward the door, but when he neared Miss Crawford he seemed to catch his foot on the carpet. His left leg, still in poor shape from the night before, gave out; he stumbled and dropped. Reflexively, he grabbed Miss Crawford to stay upright, throwing one arm across her shoulders and the other around her waist. The woman gave a slight cry of surprise. The pair rocked alarmingly to the side as Courier Six tried to stand. Tiani lurched forward, intending to catch them, but the Courier found his feet again and steadied himself. "Sorry, Ma'am," he said apologetically, releasing her.

Miss Crawford brushed herself off. "It's fine," she replied.

The Courier chuckled and put his hands in his pockets. "Guess I'm not healed up. Got m'self attacked by Vipers last night."

Miss Crawford winced. "Oh, mercy! Be more careful!" she chided, patting him on the shoulder. She turned her attention to Tiani, peering over her spectacles with eyes that still looked dull and tired. "Time to get started cleaning the upstairs rooms. The merchant party left this morning."

"I'll take care of my own room," the Courier said quickly. He passed by Miss Crawford and opened the door. There was a flash of bright sun, a dusty breeze, and then the door clicked shut. The lobby fell quiet again. Miss Crawford opened a bottle of Sunset Sarsaparilla from the newly-repaired machine and starting writing in her log book.

Tiani took her cleaning supplies up to the second floor and sat alone in the first of a series of naked, threadbare rooms. As she collected metal dinner plates and remade the bed, she thought about the Courier. He was certainly a strange man. He observed too much, even when he was working or drunk. His eye was better than she thought. She wondered if those goggles had some kind of camera imbedded in them. There had to be some explanation for how a man could still see everything, Godlike, and still manage to fix vending machines and play Caravan.

It was disturbing to think that he watched her as carefully as he did, and knew about the Legion.

She had to wonder whether the Courier was involved with the Legion and its slavers, and if so, how friendly he was toward Caesar.

She also had to wonder if she had truly seen him place something in his pocket after nearly knocking over Miss Crawford, something that glittered in the harsh light of the bare Pre-War bulbs.


	3. Legionary

It was late afternoon the next day before Tiani saw the Courier again. He departed early in the morning for REPCONN and only returned after the sun had already painted long dark shadows across the barren ground. As always, the bloated sun seemed to set the sky on fire with hues of crimson and yellow. Its bottom edge barely brushed the hills far to the west when there was an incredible explosion. A sonic boom rattled the boarded windows of the Dino Dee-Lite motel. A bottle of wine placed close to the edge of a table in the lobby shattered to the floor, filling the room with the high stink of aged grapes.

Tiani thought it was the end of the world.

She was happily gossiping with Manny Vargas on the stairs leading up to Dinky, the bright green dinosaur that brought Novac so much celebrity, when the explosion came. Manny threw himself over her, pinning her to the ground with his tense, trembling body. He cast a glance upward. Huge, shining missiles tore through the air, trailing smoke and ash. Manny swore he could see a pair of Ghouls in futuristic suits staring out of one of the rockets.

The missiles continued a shallow course up into the sky, then suddenly turned almost straight upward in a graceful arc. They disappeared into the hazy evening mist.

It was over.

Slowly, unaware that he was shaking all over, Manny Vargas crawled off Tiani and helped her to her feet. She was also trembling, but there was a look of wild excitement on her face. "That was interesting," she commented.

They burst into simultaneous laughter; that hysterical, elated laughter that is the body's natural response to perceived near-death experiences. It is both a wonder and a celebration; a question of "how can I be alive?" and a confirmation that, no matter how close Death and his shining scythe loomed for a moment, the body lived to tell the tale. They laughed together until tears streamed down their faces, holding each other for mutual support, and when the hysteria died down Tiani stood on her tiptoes and kissed Manny on the cheek. She said no words, but a light blush spread across her cheeks, filling her pale face with delicate color. Manny looked baffled. He touched the spot she had kissed with an almost wondering expression, as if he were too shy to ask why she had done such a thing.

"Thank you for protecting me," she told him, and wandered off to her room.

The Courier had done his job. He set the world on fire and removed the Ghouls from REPCONN.

Courier Six returned a few hours after the sun had set for real, wandering in as he always did under cover of darkness and silvery moonlight. The first thing the Courier did was pour a glass of vodka. Tiani watched this action from her favorite sitting spot beside the chain fence.

The second part, the part Tiani didn't see, was to break into the safe behind the front desk in the Dino Dee-Lite motel.

Courier Six was not very good at stealing. Being a public icon prevented any kind of secret deeds. The minute the Courier committed a sin, _everybody_ seemed to know, unless the sin occurred deep out in the desert where no man, woman, or child ever wandered.

The Courier left the caps, the book, and the .357 Magnum in the tiny safe. There were already too many caps burning holes in various pockets, and the .357 was a piece of trash. The Bill of Sale was much more interesting. It was child's play to hide the scrap of valuable paper in a pocket and casually pass the girl ( _Tiani, dammit_ ) on the way up to room 107. Once inside, Courier Six flipped on the lights and pulled out the paper. Opened it. Read it over once, twice, three times.

Boone was right. They had sold his wife to the Legion.

Courier Six was not inclined to be romantic, but the thought of a man's pregnant wife being sold to monsters could make anyone's hand itch to put a bullet in a responsible party's head. It was Jeannie May, that crazy bitch Jeannie May. She sold a man's beautiful wife and their child out of sheer malice and dislike. Suddenly Novac seemed less friendly and homey. It had its skeletons just like every other place. There was a shadowy side to the little town, waiting for someone to come along and expose them. When that chest of hidden truths finally opened, it would spill forth a putrid cloud redolent of corruption and rot.

_Oh there will be consequences. You can count on that._

Carla. Her name was Carla.

An unfamiliar woman, before the Courier's time. But when Boone spoke, his voice betrayed his love, and his pain. It was enough to make a grown man cry, as Boone undoubtedly had, many times. For Boone, Carla was eternally the woman who vanished, taking his heart with her. He was a shell of a man without love to fill him.

Carla's blood was in Jeannie May's fists. She would pay. There would be retribution, and Courier Six would see to it. With or without Boone's red beret.

But right now, a puff of Jet and a nap sounded like a good idea.

)-(

Tiani watched the Courier limp up the stairs to his room, a bottle of free vodka clenched in one gloved hand. He swayed a little as he walked. Tiani surmised he'd had a couple bottles before this one, probably of cheap Wastelander beer. He opened the door to 107 and slammed it shut.

Tiani leaned against the chain link fence, absorbing its comforting warmth. Even at night, the air felt summery. For a while it was wonderful to simply sit there, staring up at the sky still cloudy with missile exhaust. She could barely believe that a group of Ghouls had just exited this earth by means of Pre-War rockets. It was mind-boggling.

She heard the sound of something rolling and gritting on stone and turned her head. There was a Securitron behind her. She leaped to her feet, her daydreams and musings gone faster than a bullet from Boone's rifle. Occasionally ancient relics wandered out of the Mojave, and their faulty security protocols identified everyone as an enemy. The robot did not move or charge its cannon. She opened her mouth, preparing to holler for Boone or Manny.

"Howdy pardner!" the robot said cheerily. Tiani closed her mouth, taken aback. There was a grinning cowboy with a cigarette in his mouth on its flickering screen. "Don't reckon I've made yer acquaintance before! The name's Victor."

"I'm Tiani," she said cautiously. Where had she heard that name before?

"Nicetameetcha Tiani!" He chuckled. "Hey, have you seen my friend? The one I dug out of a hole?"

The name clicked. She recognized who he was and blurted out, "You saved Courier Six!"

"That I did, Miss Tiani," he answered. "Poor crippled pardner was taking a little dirt nap!" His exaggerated optimism was rather strange. Tiani attributed it to his programming. "Now I've a-drifted into town to see a little of the world."

"Where are you headed?" Tiani was fascinated. A working Securitron that didn't try to kill people? Amazing! She wanted to learn more about him, and whoever kept him in such good shape.

"Here and there," he said evasively, much to her disappointment. "Might head down to the New Vegas Strip and try my hand at gambling. I think they'd have to kick me out of the casino for hacking the slot machines and counting cards!"

Tiani giggled. She couldn't help it. His odd brand of humor was somehow infectious. Victor laughed too, a tinny, mechanical sound. They stood together in the cold gray moonlight for a few moments until Tiani calmed down. "So," she said, once her mirth abated, "where did you come from?"

There was the sound of clicking relays deep inside Victor's metal frame. "'Fraid I don't know, pardner," he said regretfully. "I moseyed into Goodsprings about oh, fifteen years ago. I don't remember much before that. Maybe I ain't supposed to. Anyway, I figured I'd follow that Courier a little, watch the pardner progress. It isn't every day you get buried alive after all."

"He's a strange man," said Tiani, frowning. "I'm not sure I trust him."

"The Courier's more than he seems," said Victor. "Or should I say less?"

Tiani looked up at his screen, confused and suspicious. Hadn't Courier Six said he found Victor to be untrustworthy? It seemed to her that the robot spoke in riddles. "What are you talking about?"

"Jest rambling," said Victor airily. "Now pardner, I got to be heading out now. The glitz and glam of New Vegas await! Happy trails Miss! I'll be seeing you."

He wheeled away without even waiting for a returning goodbye.

Tiani gave up and went to bed.

Victor vanished along the horizon toward New Vegas. It was time to see his boss.

)-(

The sun had set when the truck roared into town.

The headlights on the behemoth were nonoperational; the paint had long since flaked off, revealing the rusty hide of the Pre-War vehicle beneath. The machine bellowed under the light of the feathery moon, chugging clouds of acrid exhaust from a rotted tailpipe. A huge tarp made of stitched-together Brahmin hides covered the back of the truck, protecting the men inside. They sat with their knees somewhere around the vicinity of their ears, bristling with all types of weapons from rifles to golf clubs.

Dinky the Dinosaur loomed in the distance, an immense and aging guardian.

A single shot cracked through the darkness, waking the denizens from their uneasy slumber. Tiani's eyes flew open. Her first wild and sleep-muddled thought was _oh my God the Courier killed someone._

Then she heard the truck.

She rose like a sleepwalker and dreamily opened the door, moving as one drugged. A second shot reverberated in the air, and the truck swerved. It shot around the dinosaur down the crumbling tarmac, now out of Boone's range, tires screaming and kicking up pebbles. It screeched to a stop outside the Poseidon Gas Station. Tiani watched Andy limp out of his cabin, barefoot and shirtless, a .357 in hand. Manny followed close behind. They looked panicked by the light of the moon.

Tiani ran down the stairs, her heart beating in her mouth, feeling cold with terror, like she could faint at any second. Blood pounded in her ears. She caught up to Manny and grabbed his arm to halt him. "Who is it?" she whispered. "Did Boone shoot somebody? What's going on?!"

"I don't know," Manny murmured. "Go back into your room and close the door. Bar it. Hide."

Tiani obeyed.

)-(

Manny Vargas watched the pretty girl from nowhere as she ran fleet-footed back into her motel room. As tense and nervous as he was, he couldn't help but admire her slender figure. She looked a little like Carla Boone, but while Carla had been frosty and distant, Tiani seemed to radiate goodwill and friendliness.

Andy stood by the gate, staring out at the idling truck. It died with a loud backfire. The doors swung open. Andy knelt under the stairs, grimacing when his knee protested. He aimed at the truck. "Don't move!" he bellowed. Manny knelt next to Andy. Behind him he heard Boone clatter down the stairs, rifle in hand, and take aim at the man in the lead.

"Who the hell are you?" Ranger Andy shouted.

The men did not respond. They continued walking forward as if there weren't three town guardians aiming guns at them. The ten soldiers filed out of the truck, not touching their weapons, walking in silent single file towards Dinky.

The men crossed the street with uncommon grace and stealth.

Manny squinted in the dark. He couldn't see their faces, only the outlines of their outlandish armor. There was a flapping noise, like a standard snapping in the light breeze. One of the men held a tall pole which he placed boldly in front of him with every other step, like an oversized cane.

"Stop or I'll shoot!" Manny heard Boone yell. Then, furiously, "it's the goddamn Legion!"

There was a gunshot. Manny didn't think. He ducked and pulled Andy down with him. They fell in a sprawled pile on the concrete, not daring to move, paralyzed for a second by confusion and adrenaline. Manny chanced a glance up at Boone, who was still standing. The man stared back, confused and alarmed. His weapon had not fired. The sound had come from above.

Boone craned his neck to better see the sniper above him. "Lo, Courier Six," he said quietly.

The Courier was on the landing, bracing a .44 scope rifle against the railing. A trail of smoke drifted up from the barrel. His bullet had pinged against the tarmac and plummeted into the dirt not three inches from the strangers' boots. "I don't think you want to continue, my friends," he called. "I'm sure Boone will take care of you. Or if he don't, I will. I got plenty of guns up here."

The lead man stepped forward. "Ave." He had a rather light voice for a man. The shadows still obscured his face, so none of the Novac citizens could tell his age.

"Who the hell are you?" demanded Boone truculently. The Courier winced in sympathy for the poor man. These were, after all, obvious members of the Legion.

The lead man took a few more steps forward. He wore a thick cape over his armor. Now the weak light cast by the porch lamps threw his finely-carved face into sharp relief, turning his eye sockets into shadowy pits. He had a long nose and straight fair hair that spilled over his shoulders. He wore no helmet, but his armor and sword were that of a veteran Legionary. "My name is Milo. I come in peace. We are here to recover a citizen from our camps."

"A slave, you mean," snarled Boone. His rifle shook in his hands. His upper lip drew back, revealing rows of clenched, sharp white teeth. "Get the hell out of my town!"

"Who the hell do you want, Milo?" called the Courier. His tone was mild, as if he were asking the Legionary if he liked Bighorner milk with his coffee.

"It doesn't matter, Six!" growled Boone. His tone dared the wasteland hero to continue talking. "They're not taking anyone from _my_ town!"

Courier Six was, however, unfazed by Boone's intimidation technique. "Is it a girl?" he asked the waiting shadows. No one answered him. "Small, blonde, missing since about a month ago? Probably one of your medics-in-training, am I right?"

"That is the citizen," agreed Milo. The bastard stayed calm and collected. "Now, Decanus Thom and I are willing to discuss this peacefully, but we have been authorized by our centurion to use force . . . ."

"Hold the hell on." Courier Six jumped over the railing and climbed effortlessly along the lobby roof. He jumped down beside Milo. "Let's settle this in a civilized fashion. You're the veteran Decanus, aren't you?"

"Yes," Milo admitted. Decanus Thom turned his head a little to glare at Milo over the top of his cracked sunglasses. While Milo was slim and well-built, Thom had ropes of bulging muscles and about a foot of extra height. He looked strong enough to snap Milo in two. _Probably has some Super Mutant blood in him_ , Courier Six thought. This idea was grimly amusing.

"We'll settle this like adults. You and me. Over a bottle of Scotch."

"I'd like that, Courier Six," said Milo, smiling.

Boone eyed Six suspiciously. "You know this bastard?" His voice was cracked with fury.

"Sort of," said the Courier. "Had a little accident on the river, involving a couple Cazadors. He saved my life." He turned in the direction of the men standing beside the truck. "None of you had better hurt anybody in this town," he warned them, "or I'll tear your livers out." A murmur ran through the assembled men like a slow wave. "I mean it. No picking fights. See how you feel with the Vexillarius's pole tamped down your throat!"

The men murmured again. Thom and Milo conferred briefly in Latin. Boone, Andy, and Manny watched closely, feeling a collective kind of uselessness. Thom roared at his men to shut up, for Mars's sake. A sullen silence descended among them. They fiddled with their makeshift weapons and shifted on their feet. Milo and Thom finished their conversation. Appearing grumpy, Thom wandered back to the truck.

Milo turned his calm gaze to Courier Six's concealed face. He seemed unfazed by the goings-on. "Shall we open that bottle of Scotch?" he asked formally.

"I thought the Legion didn't allow stimulants," the Courier teased.

Milo ducked his head, but the Courier still saw a smirk unfold on the man's face. "Perhaps Caesar doesn't need to know everything, am I correct?"

Courier Six laughed. "Indeed, my friend, indeed." He clapped Milo on the shoulder and led him through the gate. Andy and Manny drew back as the Legion Decanus walked by, but Boone leaned closer. He still hadn't put down his rifle.

"One wrong move," he warned under his breath, barely moving his lips. "One wrong move, and I'll kill all of you."

Milo ignored him. Together, he and Courier Six climbed the stairs and headed for Room 107. Courier Six opened the door and let Milo in. On the way inside, he paused, as if remembering something important. "Boone?" he called.

The man's head shot up. "What the hell do you want!?" Boone demanded.

"Go get the girl, would you? Milo will want to see her after our drink."

Boone began to shout something violent and obscene, but Courier Six closed the door, cutting Boone off. The man cursed under his breath, hunkered down by the gate, and watched the Legionaries beside their truck like a hunter watches his oblivious prey.

Andy and Manny sat with him, never taking their eyes off the slavers from hell.

)-(

Tiani was sitting on her bed when the door above closed a thud. She heard, distantly, the sound of light male laughter in response to a murmured comment. Springs squeaked above her head. Then silence.

What the hell was going on?

Tiani longed to poke her head out the door and ask Manny what was going on. There had been a single gunshot, but no screaming. No battle-noises. In fact, it seemed as if the entire world had fallen silent.

The silence was excruciating.

Frustration clouded her vision. She flopped down on her own bed and pulled the covers up over her head, like a child hiding from monsters. Except in this case, the monsters were real. They just wore a human guise. But really, Deathclaw, Mirelurk, Lakelurk, Viper Raider, Gecko, Centaur, Legionary, they were all interchangeable. Some had guns instead of claws, shells instead of skin, but they were essentially the same. They were all evil. The only problem comes when evil looks similar to your mother or father, your sister or your brother. If you can see the fear and the pain in your enemy's eyes, you could be inclined to lean towards mercy.

Tiani bet that Courier Six had no problem with simple, silly things like mercy.

The radio turned on upstairs, louder than ever. _I Don't Want to Set the World on Fire._ Of course. Tiani listened and mouthed along to the words, not daring to speak aloud. The song was beginning to grow on her.

Five minutes passed. The channel changed, and gave way to _Johnny Guitar._ Ten minutes. _Ain't That a Kick in the Head?_ Mister New Vegas rambled something about a Missus New Vegas in his low, grumbly, comforting voice. _Love Me as Though There Were No Tomorrow. Something's Gotta Give._ Fifteen minutes.

The occasional squeaking springs accompanied the music, like a backup melody played out of time.

There was a knock on the door.

Tiani raised her head out of the warm, comforting cave of blankets. "Who's there?" she called. She grasped her 9mm with a shaking hand. "What do you want?"

"It's Boone," said a tired voice. "Let me in, Tiani, please?"

Tiani shot across the room and unlocked the door.

Boone was much taller than she was; so tall, in fact, that he blocked most of the outside light when he stood in the doorway. She couldn't see his face, only the outline of his dark glasses, yet somehow she could read his emotions. She took in his rigid shoulders, bowed head, and straight-as-an-arrow spine, and immediately felt fear wash over her, obliterating all thought and knocking the breath from her lungs.

"Who is it, Boone?" Tiani murmured. To steady herself, she braced one hand against the doorframe. She felt dizzy with fear.

"It's the Legion," said Boone bluntly. "They're looking for you."

Cold. So cold. Terror crawling up her spine. The world spun on a titled axis; Tiani felt herself fall forward. Boone caught her, hoisting her upright into a rough embrace. She wasn't aware she was speaking. "Oh my God. No. No, please no."

"Tiani," said Boone, his voice muffled, "listen—"

"I have to get out of here!" Tiani screamed, pushing him away. He seized her wrist and pulled her towards him. She flailed and tried to slip around him to run, shrieking, out into the night. Thoughts whirled through her head. How could she escape, if the Legion would follow wherever she went? How did they find her? Would they ever stop chasing?

Hoarse sobs bellowed out of her. She couldn't stop them. Her lungs refused to work properly. Through a film of angry tears she saw Ranger Andy and Manny peering at her. She didn't care. She only cared about freeing herself from Boone's clutches. He was just so damned _strong._ The hand around her wrist was as solid as a manacle.

As solid as a slave collar.

The sniper clamped a hand over her mouth. "Tiani!" he said in a fierce whisper, "stop!"

And because that voice sounded so harsh, so tired and yet strangely concerned, Tiani stopped struggling. Boone bowed his head until he was on a level with the smaller girl. She could see his eyes, two pinpoints of darkness behind mirrored lenses. He murmured, "Courier Six is talking with their veteran Decanus. He's buying your freedom."

All the fight drained out of her. Boone's face wavered in and out of her vision. She blinked to clear her eyes. "He's d-doing wh-what?"

"He's going to save you," Boone assured her. "Him and the Legion bastard went upstairs . . . about twenty minutes ago. They're discussing terms over a bottle of Scotch."

"Wha-what d'you w-want with m-m-me?" she stuttered.

"Six wanted you outside. You three are going to chat."

"I d-don't want to," the girl muttered, lowering her eyes.

"You won't be alone," Boone reminded her. He released her wrist and took her hand. "You do have Six. And Manny and Andy. And me. We'll keep you safe. Even if Six didn't keep up his end of the deal."

She peered up into his face. The man's voice was emotionless as ever, but she detected a bit of hesitance, perhaps affection. "Thank you," she said, and offered him a watery smile. She squeezed his hand gently. "Thank you, Boo—"

The door upstairs slammed.

Tiani and Boone glanced upward, startled. Boone wordlessly led Tiani out into the parking lot. They stood together in the warm darkness, hand-in-hand. Andy and Manny stood beside her. Their strong frames formed what could almost be considered a protective circle. As frightened as she was, Tiani was grateful for their warm, solid presence.

Milo and Courier Six descended the stairs.

Tiani's first impression was of smell. The men reeked of cigarettes and vodka. Milo's fair hair was ruffled, his tunic in disarray. But there was a small, satisfied smile on his face, an expression of smug surety. Tiani's heart sank. Courier Six had lost the discussion. She knew it in her very bones. He had told her how terrible he was at bartering. There was no way he'd convinced a Legionary to part with his slave.

Courier Six looked completely unperturbed, as if drinking with Legionaries was standard procedure. In one hand, he held an empty bottle that had once contained an atomic cocktail. His face was still obscured by the shadow of his hat and by those bright red goggles Tiani had come to loathe. There was a new spring in his loping step. What the hell was going on here?

The closer Courier Six and Milo were, the tighter the protective circle became.

"Ave."

Just the word was enough to send shivers up her spine. The men around her tensed. Tiani tried to meet her addresser's eye and failed; she settled for staring at the hem of the Courier's trench coat. Milo's voice was cool and amused, light enough to be appealing. He was a proudly handsome man, with a finely-carved face and delicate, almost feminine features. If he didn't provoke such wild hysteria in her, she would have found him incredibly attractive. "It appears my friend Six is very . . . fond of you, my dear girl."

Tiani said nothing. She couldn't find her voice.

"That'll be all, Decanus Minderbinder," said the Courier happily. He thumped the man on the back as though he were a chum rather than a slaving maniac. He seemed oblivious to the murderous glares of the Novac men. "Now get the hell out of my town, friend. And leave my other friends alone."

"As you wish," replied Milo, turning to him with an elegant bow. "Until next time, _amicus_." He turned his gaze to Tiani. "You have no more to fear from us. Your freedom has been bought." He handed Courier Six a thick coin on a ribbon. "This is for you, Miss Tiani. Fare well, Wastelanders." He turned heel and walked through the gate.

Boone, Manny, Andy, and Tiani watched him leave in silence.

The Legionaries loaded themselves into their truck, grumbling and swearing in Latin. The truck ignited in an explosion of exhaust and dirt, and inched away toward Clark Field.

They were gone.

As one, the protective circle turned their heads to stare at the Courier.

The Courier shoved his hands in his pockets. "What?" he mumbled. "Can I go back to sleep now? I'm _tired_." They didn't move. "I mean it! Go away. I'm _tired_." He went up to his room, grumbling about "morons waking me up at the crack of midnight to smoke with a pansy in a toga . . ."

Andy and Manny drifted off to bed. Boone stayed with Tiani, head cocked, looking thoughtfully up at Room 107, lost in musings. He was still holding Tiani's hand. The support was much appreciated.

"Boone?" she asked him timidly.

"Hmm?" He didn't move his head.

"Am I . . . still allowed to live here?"

"Huh?" He snapped out of his reverie and swiftly released her hand, as though the touch were offensive. "Uh, yeah. Of course. Why wouldn't you be?"

"Because I brought the Legion . . . ."

Boone regarded her seriously. "We all have histories and problems, Carla. The thing about life is living with what we have and taking care of one another. It's all about survival."

"Okay." She paused. "Tiani."

"Uhh . . . .?"

"You called me Carla. I'm Tiani."

"Oh." He adjusted his sunglasses. "Yeah. Night."

He ran back up to Dinky. Tiani was left alone in the parking lot, staring up at the moon. Could this mean she was safe? Finally, after all the fear and uncertainty, had she found a home?

She looked up at Room 107. "Thank you, Courier Six," she whispered.

Then she went to bed.


	4. Identity

The days crawled by, full of amber sunlight and dry, hot evenings. Courier Six played endless games of Caravan with strangers in the motel lobby. Miss Crawford kept strict control over her till. No-Bark Noonan, the local nutjob, rambled his way through days of drinking and card games. Manny kept the peace by day and Boone by night. Everything was normal.

Boone offered Tiani occasional shooting lessons, and let her kill wandering Geckos that loped into her field of vision. He seemed to have some kind of affection for her, or at least sympathy. Tiani loved the lessons. She was comfortable up in Dinky's mouth, with the wind in her face and the world laid out before her like a rocky map. The horizon seemed to glow with mysterious radiance, beckoning her onward.

Tiani took to accompanying Courier Six to the Gibson Scrap Yard, to the outskirts of HELIOS One, and to a makeshift camp he'd set up near the REPCONN museum. When her workday ended, she brought her 9mm out into the parking lot, where Courier Six stood waiting with a veritable armory stuffed in his Pip-Boy. They wandered together down the crumbling roads, speaking only when Six corrected her aim or tinkered with her weapon. He gave her more ammo for her "inferior gun" and a combat knife for "emergencies." Tiani didn't know what kinds of emergencies she would encounter in the Dino Dee-Lite, but for her future, she appreciated the weapon.

One day Tiani and the Courier took a trip through the desert in search of plants for yet another carafe of Wasteland coffee. They shot at occasional Geckos too stupid to avoid a fight. There was even a dramatic moment where three large dogs shot out of the spiny underbrush and knocked the weapon from Tiani's hand. The Courier took care of them in short order. After that, they decided it was time to take a break and get off the main road.

They sat down on the bumper of an ancient, crispy car to share a bottle of water and a Bighorner steak. Tiani ate in silence, savoring the food. It gave her time to analyze that day's performance. She had shot a Blowfly and blown a hole through its left wing, giving Six enough time to beat it to death with a baseball bat. Other than that, she hadn't accomplished much. Six kept up a brisk pace too slow to be called a run, but Tiani's breath ran out long before the Courier stopped for a break. Her stamina was definitely much improved from her days at the Dino Dee-Lite, but if she wanted to travel, she needed to work a little harder.

These facts discouraged Tiani. All day she had been considering a possibility. When Courier Six finally left Novac, she wanted to accompany him. Novac had become her home, true, but everyone has to leave home sometime. Now safe from the Legion, Tiani still wanted to see the world. Even if she only went as far as New Vegas, she still wanted to go, and hopefully in the company of the Courier. She had grown to love Novac as an adoptive home, full of kindness and safety. They had protected her from the Legion. With the help of Courier Six she had amassed a pack suitable for at least a month of travel. Without a Pip-Boy her carrying capacity was limited, but her pack contained enough to outfit her for all contingencies.

Courier Six was similarly silent. He had been brooding all day, and he seemed easily distracted. He hadn't noticed the dogs until one had knocked Tiani down and rushed at her throat. He took a gulp of water and immediately covered his face with his bandanna. The food he hadn't touched. He tapped his feet in slow time, perhaps listening to music in his head. Probably _I Don't Want to Set the World on Fire._ "So how many Broc Flowers did we find?" she asked him.

"Huh?" He snapped to attention, nearly sliding off the bumper in the process. The old Corvega gave a groan of protest. He froze. The metal decided to stay stable for at least another day. Seeing that he wasn't about to go tumbling into the dirt, Six relaxed. "Um . . ." he consulted his Pip-Boy, "twelve. Plenty for healing powder."

"Do you know how to make those?" she asked, interested. Maybe he could teach her the recipe.

"Yep," responded the Courier, sounding smug. "I spent a long time learning how to survive on my own. I hate relying on people. They're too . . . unreliable."

"Oh." Tiani paused. Now was the perfect chance to ask. A little flame of hope burned in her belly. She nearly trembled with anticipation. "So, you don't ever travel with companions?"

"Nah," said the Courier. He lit a cigarette and took a long drag. "I like travelling alone. It's peaceful. I can smoke and drink and kill whatever I want."

"Oh." Tiani swallowed a lump of disappointment. "All right." The question she longed to ask danced on her lips, but she knew he would never agree. He would never accept her as a companion. She wasn't very good at shooting, obviously. She couldn't walk as fast as him. She couldn't make healing powder. She could never survive out there. Six threw himself into danger every day. It was a stupid dream.

"Why?" asked the Courier. His cigarette poked out of the darkness beneath his hat. Smoke coiled up around the brim in lazy, irregular loops. Even though she couldn't see his face, she had a feeling he was grinning. "Still thinking about leaving Novac?"

"Yes . . . ." She didn't ask. She kept her eyes off him and fiddled with a hole in her trousers. "Eventually."

Six scuffed his feet against the ground. Tiani watched him draw aimless patterns in the dirt with his worn-down boots. "I'm leaving the day after tomorrow," Six blurted out, breaking the silence. His words echoed through the stale air. "I've figured out how to finish my business. It's gonna be done soon. And . . . I think I need to go to New Vegas."

Her heart leapt in her chest. "Really?"

"Yeah, really," grumbled the Courier. "I don't just _say_ things, you know; I _mean_ what falls out of my mouth."

Tiani ducked her head. "Sorry."

The Courier shifted. "It's m'fault," he grunted, embarrassed. "You ain't doing nothing wrong. I just . . . eh, I don't wanna leave. Novac's like . . . home. Even if it has its little problems, it's home."

"It is," Tiani agreed solemnly, "but everyone has to leave home sometime, don't you think?"

He sighed. "Yeah." He sounded so forlorn that Tiani impulsively put an arm around his shoulders. She felt a solid fame beneath the ancient trench coat, a sturdy body covered in rigid armor. He tensed, then settled and allowed her to rest her head on his shoulder. They sat like that for a while, gazing off into the distance, occupied in their own daydreams.

Finally, Courier Six straightened. He gently disengaged from Tiani's embrace and said, rather kindly, "I think it's time to get home, little girl."

She wrinkled her nose. "Tiani," she told him.

"Exactly."

)-(

Tiani was cleaning the lobby when the dust-covered citizen ran in.

His eyes were wide with fear that had not yet devolved into utter panic. There was a smear of blood on the front of his shirt; a shallow scratch on his arm was the source of it. His hair was in wild disarray. A broken baseball bat dangled from his loose grip. There were shiny, blistered black patches running up the wood. He trembled like a frail plant in a windstorm, mere inches from hysteria.

Tiani didn't think. She ran toward him, arms outstretched, and eased him into a chair before his knees could give out. The bucket she had been using to make coffee thumped against the floor, slopping precious water everywhere. She didn't care. She didn't like the look of the man's face. He babbled incoherently as she ran to him. His face was pale white underneath a layer of road dirt. He reeked of sweat and fear.

"Geckos," he gasped. Tiani slipped the baseball bat from his hand. Her own weapon, the 9mm that had been a gift from Boone so long ago, was upstairs in the Courier's room, being repaired. She didn't want to leave the man alone in the dim room, but it was at least safer than being outside. She opened the door, flooding the room with sunlight and heat.

Outside, in the center of the parking lot, were half a dozen Geckos; four feet of bipedal, squalling nuisance. They were rather annoying on their own, but in packs they posed a serious threat to even mercenaries. There was a large circle of Wastelanders fighting them with pipes, bats, and rebar clubs. Most of the Geckos were the valuable golden ones from Clark Field; Tiani had shot and killed one the day before. The one in the very center of the cluster, however, had mottled red-and-purple skin along with spiky fins on its head: a Fire Gecko. The first cold brush of fear slipped down her back.

"Get away!" she yelled to the Wastelanders. They glanced up at her as one, a multi-headed monster bristling with clubs instead of teeth. The regular Geckos abandoned the fiery one to purse the easy, human prey. The Fire Gecko took in a deep breath and shot a full fifteen feet of flame, burning one of its mates to death. The smell of roasted flesh and smoky fumes rose in a choking cloud.

The wastelanders retreated, most of them attempting to flee in the absence of battle-lust. The Gecko breathed fire in their direction. They stopped, unable to get by. Tiani could see the helpless terror in their eyes.

Boone burst out of his cabin, his rifle in his hand. His face was pale except for the hectic blots of bright color in his cheekbones. As nervous as he may have been, his aim was as steady and calm as ever. Bullets flew, killing two Geckos and wounding a third. Most of the wastelanders fled, dropping their clubs on the way out the gate. A few had to vault over the corpses of the dead mutants. Tiani ducked and hid behind the partition that separated the breezeway from the parking lot. Her heart beat hard in her throat. A Gecko lumbered around the divider and swiped at her. The claws on the creature's outstretched paw seemed ten feet long. Its foul breath enveloped her. Gagging, Tiani scrambled away from it. When it reached for her again, she clubbed it across the face with the bat, sending charred splinters everywhere. The Gecko squawked. The injury was enough of a distraction for Boone to shoot the creature in the head. It died with a weird, bubbling gasp and flopped over on Tiani's doorstep, blood leaking from its head. She stared at it, morbidly fascinated. To think that something so vicious was in fact so fragile . . . .

There was a sudden yelp of pain from the parking lot, and a loud clattering. Snapped out of her reverie, Tiani gasped and put her eye to the gap in the partition. Boone lay on his stomach beside his cabin; his gun lay a full fifteen feet away. He attempted to get up and failed; his trembling leg gave out under him.

The Gecko advanced on him, snarling.

Thrills of terror raced through Tiani. She cast a desperate eye around the lot, looking for a suitable weapon. The knife hanging in her belt was too short. Her hands felt numb. Thoughts whirled in her mind like startled birds, images of Boone lying in a pool of his own blood or crisped to a cinder. Boone couldn't die now. Not after he'd been so kind to her. She _had_ to do something! Oh, what she wouldn't give to have her gun!

_Quick, Tiani, think! Find something!_

There. A thick wooden board lying on the ground, probably torn off one of the windows. She seized it, ignoring splinters that dug into her vulnerable flesh. The board was light enough to carry, and heavy enough to do some damage. She crept out from behind the partition. Boone's eyes widened when he saw her. Carefully he reached into his pocket and withdrew something shiny; a spent .44 cartridge. He tossed it to the left. The Gecko stopped and followed it with its bulging eyes. A foolish move on Boone's part, surely, but it bought Tiani time.

"Hey!" she yelled. "Yoo-hoo! Monster! Here boy! Leave Boone alone!"

The Gecko whirled around. It stood in place, waving its little arms. Tiani saw mad hate in its eyes. As soon as its back was turned, Boone began to slowly crawl away, pulling his long body with tanned, muscular forearms. His face was contorted with pain and concentration. He threw another cartridge; this one rolled between the Gecko's legs. It paused, engrossed in the shiny object at its feet. Tiani raised the board and whacked the Gecko smartly near its shoulder joint. It shrieked, a grossly human sound, and once more focused its attention on her.

Tiani circled the beast, watching its movements closely. It twitched, squealed, and darted forward. Tiani swung her board into the side of the Gecko's head. Squawking indignantly, the Gecko drew in a deep breath. It was preparing to breathe fire.

"KID! MOVE!" Tiani reacted instantly. She threw herself to the side at the exact second the Gecko began to exhale. Its head exploded, splattering Tiani with gore. The headless body flopped to the ground. Tiani looked up. The Courier stood by the door to his motel room, a Magnum .357 in his hand. He looked relaxed and calm, as though the killing didn't faze him. "You were almost dinner, girl," he said mildly, holstering his pistol with a little flourish. "I'm surprised you moved in time."

"Well I do know how to jump," said Tiani crossly, dropping her blood-splattered board. "I am aware that fire is a bad thing."

The Courier chuckled. "Kid, you got guts, I'll tell you—" He stopped. His hand dropped to his gun. Tiani had one split second to think _oh my God he can't be that fast_ _ **no one**_ _is that fast_ before the gun exploded into thunder. She caught an impression of noise and blurred movement as the bullet passed by her ear. There was a scream behind her, one of surprise but not pain, and hot blood drenched her back. She turned around on legs that felt like stilts, numbly aware of Boone moaning in shock, and some wastelander weeping. A second Fire Gecko lay on the concrete, bleeding from the side of the head. One furious, pain-glazed eye rolled up to look at her. Tiani lifted the board high and swung as hard as she could.

Blood flew.

The red haze of battle slowly faded away as Tiani stared down at the corpse of the Gecko. Sweat and blood dripped from her forehead. Her clothes were a gory mess, she noted with dismay. Such strange things to be thinking of and worrying about after a battle as intense as this had been. She squinted up at the motel balcony. Courier Six hadn't moved. He remained standing in front of his door, lounging on the railing, smoking yet another cigarette. "Lovely day out," he remarked, and vanished back into his room.

)-(

A few hours later, after taking a long and hot bath, Tiani dressed herself in clean clothes (her old ones, deemed too dirty and bloody to be mendable, had been burned) and went upstairs to Room 107, bearing a bottle of Scotch as a thank you gift. She knocked politely on the door, tossing a sheaf of hair out of her face as she did so. "Courier Six? Can I talk to you?" There was no response. She tried the knob. The door was unlocked. It swung open on rusty hinges, revealing the dingy room behind. She slipped inside. Suspicion loomed in her mind. "Courier Six?"

A crash from the bathroom, accompanied by breaking glass. Her heart caught in her throat. She almost dropped the Scotch onto the stained carpet. Suppose there was a problem? Suppose there was somebody waiting in the bathroom for the Courier to return? Maybe the Courier had overdosed and was having a seizure!

"Courier Six!" She banged on the bathroom door. "Are you in there?! Are you okay?"

"Gods curse you, don't come in!" The voice sounded too high, like a child faking a man's voice. Tiani threw open the door. The bright lights inside almost blinded her. She blinked. A woman with jet black hair, wearing only a shift, sat perched on the rim of the filthy bathtub. Her eyes were red, her face haggard. A line of blood dripped from one nostril. There was a curved piece of thin metal lying on the edge of the sink, and the Courier's favorite goggles were hanging from the tub faucet. The shattered remains of a shot glass littered the floor by the woman's small, bare feet. The neck of a vodka bottle peeked out of the sink.

Tiani tensed up. Her hand dropped to the knife strapped to her thigh. "Who are you?" she demanded, trying to sound braver than she truly felt. Even unarmed, the woman looked dangerous. "Where's Courier Six?!"

"Oh, shut up," groaned the woman, "my head is _killing_ me."

"Where's Six?!" Tiani yelled. Her voice echoed in the grimy bathroom. The black-haired woman winced and pressed her small, scarred hands to her ears. "Answer me!"

"I AM Courier Six!" the woman snapped. She sounded querulous and weary. "And if you don't stop asking silly questions—"

Tiani pointed her knife at the stranger. "Courier Six is a man!"

With a sigh the woman picked up the strange plate. It fit neatly around her mouth and tied behind her head by means of a leather strap and a makeshift clasp. Now that Tiani saw the front of the metal mask, she noticed a little square mesh imbedded in it. "I AM Courier Six," the woman repeated, and the voice that issued from the speaker was the deeper, haughty, emotionless voice of the gunslinger that had saved her life only a few hours before.


	5. Travelers

"So . . . you're a woman."

"Yep."

Courier Six leaned on his—HER—bed. After shoving Tiani unceremoniously from the bathroom, the Courier had changed into a grimy pair of ancient slacks and a relatively clean shirt made from Brahmin skins. Now she laid down on her bed and laced her hands behind her head. She grinned at Tiani. "I thought these Wasteland cretins would respect me more if I'm a big, brawny man. So far, it's worked."

"Hold on." Tiani leaned heavily on the wall. Her mind was reeling. She was utterly baffled. She tried to say something sensible, but instead the words "You're a _woman_ " fell out of her mouth.

"I said that already," said the Courier, not unkindly. "I'm actually female, and I hide my face so people don't bother me." She chuckled. "Try to keep up with the group, kid, we've gone over this before."

"So . . . .that's why you travel at night?"

"Hell no. It's cooler at night. I found this little deal on my way to Novac the first time and purchased it. It's a voice-scrambler." She nudged the mask with her foot. "I wear a coat and hat to hide my face, and my goggles." These last objects were close at hand, and now she fiddled with them, smiling when the crimson lens caught the light and sent a flash of red across her face. "I don't wear the damn things all the time. Only in town. I can take 'em off soon, since I'm leavin'. Gotta finish up a couple tasks . . . Gotta deliver some things. But I'm tired."

"Have you been using Jet?"

"Coming down from it," she said briefly. She wiped her nose with a rag. There was still a little blood trickling from her nostril, evidence of Jet abuse. "And I'm taking some energy pills I've found, but I'll live."

"Wow . . ."

The Courier sat up straight, every trace of her relaxed demeanor evaporated. Her eyes, Tiani noticed with a jolt, were a shade of blue as faded and bright as the cloudless sky above. "Look kid, I don't know why you're in my room. Take a hike, huh? Go on. The Legion ain't gonna grab you, and Milo ain't lookin' for ya no more."

The abrupt change in mood startled Tiani. "But I want . . . ." she began.

Courier Six swore loudly. "Kid, what do you want?!"

". . . . Want to come with you," Tiani murmured, lowering her eyes.

The Courier froze. "What?"

"I want to come with you," Tiani repeated. "I . . . I want to go to New Vegas."

"I'm not going directly to New Vegas," the Courier grunted. "I've got work to do."

"Like what?"

The Courier ruminated. "Well, I got some Great Khans to track down, and some NCR rangers to talk to. And I got a job or two in Freeside, as long as the money's good. And uh, some guy told me about a Vault I can loot if I've got enough Rad-Away. Lotta long, dangerous jobs. You ain't up to it."

Though Tiani already knew this herself, the comment still stung. "I can get better," she protested. "I've done a lot better shooting! I can take care of myself!"

"But can you take care of yourself _and_ me at the same time?" Inquired the Courier. "That's what a partnership is. Taking care of _each other._ "

Frustrated, Tiani lowered her head. Tears pricked the corners of her eyes. "Fine," she said, in a voice no longer steady, "forget it. Good night, Courier Six." She stood up and made her way to the door.

Courier Six's voice came again, making her hesitate, but the Courier merely called across the room from her position on the bed, "I told you, kid, _my name ain't Courier Six._ "

"Then what _is_ your name?!" Tiani snapped, glaring at the other woman. She stared back, stunned for a second by the ferocity in the kid's reply. "You always say that but you never tell me what your name _actually is_!"

"Oh." The Courier paused, as if trying to decide whether it was safe to confide her identity in Tiani. Apparently she found Tiani trustworthy enough, for she said, "I'm known by a lot of names. In some places, they call me Cerus. In others, where they think I'm a man, my name is Courier Adam. To the rest of the world . . . my name is Naryth."

Tiani wrinkled her nose. The word was complicated and foreign, more like a Ghoul name than a human one. She'd never even heard of it. "Naryth?"

"Yeah. I made it for myself when I woke up in Goodsprings."

"Why Naryth?"

The woman shrugged. "It seemed like my name."

"I've never heard the name 'Naryth' before," Tiani commented, a little coolly.

"I've never heard 'Tiani' before either, _kid_ ," retorted Naryth. "Now go home. I've got stuff to repair. Long journey ahead of me, no idea when I'm getting back. Scram."

Tiani left, making sure to knock over an empty bottle of wine on her way out.

)-(

Naryth awoke early the next morning with a pounding headache, a cigarette burn throbbing on her thigh, and blood in her mouth. Sadly, this was a typical morning for her. She sat up carefully. Her head felt swollen and tender to the touch. Her eyes flicked to the boarded window, where the first tinges of sunlight were filtering through. The light was like slivers being driven into her skull. She winced and rubbed her head, for a moment content to sit and not remember anything. Then the day's duties hit her with the force of a stampeding Brahmin.

Today was the day Miss Crawford would die.

Naryth supposed she'd have to do it very late that night, while the rest of the citizens slept in their rotting beds, dreaming of fire and destruction. Miss Crawford always finished her business after Tiani, but the girl slept lightly. She would be awake and out the door before Naryth even gave Boone the bill of sale. Then again, she was probably used to gunfire. Boone and Manny disturbed the other residents several times a day by killing various vermin that dared wander near Novac. With Tiani around, the kill would have to be swift and clean.

Naryth vowed to personally tear out Boone's liver if he missed the old bitch the first time. There was a difference between helping someone with revenge and screwing yourself over for an incompetent fool.

Then again, if she took Tiani with her . . . .

Naryth had to admit the girl showed promise. She'd acclimated to the art of shooting long before Naryth herself, but of course she hadn't had a bullet dug out of her brain. She paid close attention to pretty much everything. Her only problem was a lack of confidence. She was timid, too nervous about screwing up and wasting bullets. Naryth knew bullets were a precious commodity, but a bullet never fired was just as useless as one that missed its target. If she would just calm down and focus, she'd be fine.

The kid wasn't bad company. She was polite, quiet, and smart as a whip, and she had that immunity coin from the Legion, the one she wore around her neck. That could come in handy.

Sighing, Naryth rose from her dirty bed and began to get dressed. The daily ritual consisted of a makeshift bath and a quick combing of the rat's nest on top of her head. Once it was tamed and tied back, she slipped on her hat, attached her H&H Voice Modifier 2020, and hid it with a bandanna. She shrugged into her favorite duster, a piece of clothing she'd picked up in Primm what seemed like decades before, and strapped her .357 to her thigh. _Revenge is coming, Jeannie May_. she thought grimly.

_For Carla._

Naryth made sure to put Boone's red beret in her pocket.

)-(

There was a knock on Tiani's door.

The girl looked up with a sigh. It would probably be Courier Six, Naryth, with some stupid half-baked apology. It seemed to be a cycle with her: do something stupid, apologize, and then do something stupid again. I'm sorry I got into a fist fight with Noonan, I'm sorry I tried to steal a Brahmin and hide it in my room, I'm sorry I left my Gecko hides drying on the railing, so on and so forth. Her excuse was usually the same: I was high, I was drunk, that guy cheated in Caravan, he was asking for it. A helpless kind of anger that had been burning steadily in Tiani's heart suddenly boiled over. She yanked the door open. Sure enough, Naryth stood there, dressed in her usual disguise. Tiani opened her mouth and prepared to give the Courier holy hell.

"Doyouwannatravelwithme?" Naryth blurted out.

Tiani closed her mouth hard enough to make her teeth click together. She was too bewildered to form a coherent reply. ". . . Huh?"

"I said, do you want to travel with me?" repeated Naryth. "I'm gonna need someone to go to New Vegas with and you want to go there anyway. And I'll take care of us, and you don't need to protect anything and I'll keep the Cazadors away and we can get some money I mean I have plenty of caps so we can go to the Ultra-Luxe and or at least the Wrangler and—"

Through the entirety of this discourse, Naryth's speech had quickened until the words practically fell over one another on the way out of her mouth. Tiani was surprised the voice scrambler didn't explode. Finally Tiani cut Naryth off by saying loudly "All right, Naryth, I'll come with you."

Naryth's shoulders slumped, as if the outpouring of words had been the only thing holding her upright. She sagged against the doorframe and gasped out, "Thank God."

Tiani was absurdly touched by Naryth's anxiousness. The woman, at least, had decided to give her a chance, seemingly at the cost of her own pride in traveling unaided. "So, when do we leave?" she asked. That familiar wellspring of hope began to warm her. Suddenly she felt light; not only weightless but brighter somehow. An adventure . . . .

"Tomorrow."

Tomorrow! Tiani gasped. That left no time to pack! What about Miss Crawford? She had to be alerted immediately. Dismay swept her up like a wave. What would Miss Crawford say? Would she be angry? How could she manage the Dino Dee-Lite without her?

"I need to tell Miss Crawford," she heard herself say. Her own voice sounded as distant as the Ink Spots on Naryth's radio. "She needs to know."

"Tell her quick," grunted Naryth. "I'm not going to wait around. We're leaving early tomorrow. Dawn. 6:30 at the latest. We've gotta make some miles. It's hard traveling. We need to get to Boulder City as soon as possible. There's a situation going on up there."

"Situation?"

"Never you mind," said Naryth coolly. She pressed a button on her Pip-Boy. "I'll tell you in the morning. You're lucky I'm giving you time at all to get ready."

"But Naryth—"

"I ain't got time for this," interrupted Naryth. "You're gonna need to tell Jeannie May yourself. Hurry up."

Tiani blinked. Naryth's sudden mood swing had again startled her. "Is something wrong?" she asked hesitantly, not wanting to trigger another one of Naryth's heated outbursts.

Instead of snapping back, the Courier paused. "No?" she said, sounding confused. "Nothing's wrong. Why would there be?"

"Because you keep snapping at me."

"Oh." The Courier paused again. "Uh, sorry. Go tell Missus Crawford we're leaving, kay? Gotta get packed."

Tiani left the room and went downstairs to break the news to Miss Crawford. She tried to ignore the creeping suspicions lurking in her mind that her new companion might be a maniac.

)-(

Jeannie May Crawford awoke in the darkness of her own home.

At first she didn't remember where she was. Her dreams, vague and confused, had been full of Legion slaver camps and Carla Boone's terrified screams. She remembered that day clearly, though it was something she tried to forget. Now that Craig Boone wandered around Novac like a lost little puppy, looking mournfully off into the distance, mooning like one of the schoolgirls Jeannie May had once seen in Pre-War vids, she tried even harder to pretend nothing had happened. The caps in her register said otherwise, but Jeannie May didn't share the contents of her till with anyone, especially Boone. The man was weak and spineless. He _mourned_ over Carla. That ice-cold bitch had been a thorn in Jeannie May's side since she first stepped foot in the Dino Dee-Lite and remained one to this day, even though she was now dead.

Boone was weak. He let love get in the way of survival. Out here you couldn't afford to please a woman. He had shirked his duties to fall eagerly at the feet of a rude, snobby, ungrateful girl who dared to talk ill of Jeannie May's town.

Miss Crawford drew the blanket around her shoulders, cold despite the heat of the evening. She was not a stupid woman. She knew Boone was looking for Carla's kidnapper. Sometimes she slept apprehensively and awoke in a cold sweat, certain that Boone was at the door, hammering on it with his huge fists, with a knife in one hand and a rope in the other.

There was a knock on the door. Jeannie May voiced a thin little cry. Had the Boone of her gray, uneasy dreams come into the real world with vengeance on his mind?

"Missus Crawford?" called a voice. It was the Courier.

Jeannie May opened the door. The Courier tipped his hat. "Missus Crawford," he said. "I found something out by Dinky. And uh, well, I'm real confused."

"Well, what is it?" she asked. Her alarm was rapidly draining away, though her heart still pounded heavily, the aftermath of her dreams. Bemusement quickly replaced the distress. What the hell was Courier Six talking about?

He scuffed his boots on the ground. "Uh, well, I don't exactly know missus," he said. He sounded embarrassed. Sometimes Jeannie May thought the Courier was a little stupid. He could fire a gun like no other, sure, but when it came to interacting with people, he was awful. He couldn't describe something that was probably just a piece of trash caught in the fence. "Could you perhaps take a look?"

Miss Crawford put on her battered shoes. "Alight." She stepped out into the street, wading through a drift of dirt and dust. The Courier followed her closely like a guard dog. Jeannie May was too tired and rattled to notice that one of the Courier's hands was behind his back. The beret was in that hand. "Thank you, Missus Crawford," he said sheepishly. "I ain't _never_ seen something like this before."

The Courier was probably simple, but he had guts, and he could admit when he was confused. Miss Crawford went to investigate.

)-(

Tiani awoke to someone hissing in her ear. Startled, she punched outward, catching her assailant in the jaw, and whipped her gun out. "Knock it off!" a familiar hoarse whisper ordered.

Tiani sat up. "Naryth?"

"Let's go, kid. We don't got a lot of time."

Tiani blinked. Her sluggish brain felt like it was full of cotton. "What? Now?"

"Yep."

"Why?"

"No time for questions!" Naryth hissed. She sounded harried. "I locked up my room. I have it on permanent lease. Grab yer pack and let's get the hell out of Novac. Now!"

Blinking, yawning, shuddering, Tiani pulled her bag out from under her bed and flipped open the cover. Naryth seized it and threw a dozen Stimpaks into its depths. "We're good," she said, "Let's go."

Outside they met Boone, who carried his rifle in trembling hands. Tiani didn't need to see his face to know he was deeply disturbed by something. "Boone," said Naryth softly. "Come with us. We'll go find the Legion together. Take revenge for Carla."

"You have Legion friends," said Boone coldly.

"Yeah, but the thing is, I care more about revenge than friends. We're both out for revenge, after all. Come on." Naryth offered her hand.

Boone shook his head. "No, I'll make my own way. See you around." They shook hands; Naryth caught his eye the best she could in the gloom and nodded to him. Boone went to his room.

Tiani and Naryth crept out of the parking lot. Tiani spied something sprawled in a crumpled heap over by Dinky. "What's that?" she asked.

"Nothing," said Naryth roughly, pulling her along. They left Novac together under cover of darkness. No one saw them leave. And thus, the adventure began. The Courier continued down one more dusty road, one more trail into the menacing world of the Mojave wastes.

)-(

"All right. Halt."

Tiani blinked. The hot sun beat down on her, burning, roasting her in her clothes. It was practically unbearable. They had been walking for a few hours, more or less following the road. Naryth occasionally checked her Pip-Boy map. They passed HELIOS One very early, as the sun rose on another depressing day in the wastes. Now they were near some long-abandoned rest stop, scrounging scrap food from a long dead refrigerator. Tiani attacked the food voraciously. She hadn't eaten breakfast. Miss Crawford was probably wondering why her assistant had left already. Tiani thought again about that poor woman cleaning the empty lobby, unaware that Tiani was long gone.

Tiani was unaware that Miss Crawford was lying in a shallow grave with her head blown off, surrounded by Novac citizens who stood in tearless vigil, unable to properly express the grief of losing yet another friend to the darkness. They knew the wastes could be harsh and unforgiving, and often unpredictable. As Tiani and Naryth left the rest stop, the first splash of dirt was cascading down on Miss Crawford's ruined face. As Naryth killed two Mole Rats and pulled out her knife to harvest the meat, Manny Vargas was murmuring a prayer. By the time Naryth finished, Manny too had finished, and the makeshift service began to break up. No one saw Boone. He had locked himself in his room with a bottle of scotch, some packages of cigarettes, and a picture of Carla.

Tiani sat down on a rock and watched Naryth work, still oblivious to her employer's death. The Courier used the knife with dexterous skill, separating the meat from the bone and wrapping it in cloth, which she shoved into her pack. "So," said Tiani, "where are we going?"

"Boulder City," grunted Naryth. She didn't seem happy about that. In fact, she sounded as if she found Boulder City unpleasant.

"Boulder City? Where's that?"

"It's near Hoover Dam. There's a situation going on with the NCR and some Great Khans. I heard the distress beacon yesterday."

Tiani wrinkled her nose. "We have to go help the NCR?"

Naryth shrugged. She sheathed her knife and stretched her long, nimble fingers. "Maybe. I really don't care. I might get caps out of it. Plus, the NCR has a hold on this place. I may need them. Especially if I find that guy who shot me. So, Boulder City it is."

Tiani sighed. "So how are we getting there?"

Naryth looked surprised. "The road, of course. All roads lead somewhere. We can probably take the Long 15. And if not, we can find our own way. There are trails all across this world."

"But, how will you know where to go and what to do?"

"I'll figure something out." Naryth shrugged. "We'll get there. I have my Pip-Boy."

Tiani winced. "You . . . don't really think things out, do you?"

"Nope."

"How on earth do you get from place to place?"

"Luck," admitted Naryth. "Now come on, we don't got all day." She continued down the wrecked road in her broken, sprung boots, humming along to _I Don't Want to Set the World on Fire_. Tiani followed, faithful even in her doubt. Perhaps she sensed the importance of Courier Six, who cheated death and returned for revenge. Perhaps she felt the strings tightening around them, coming together to form a legacy, drawing them into something only described in legends. For whatever reason Tiani Strong followed Naryth, the Courier of the Wastes, she did so with a song on her lips and faith in her heart.

Though the strong winds blew their footsteps away in mere seconds, echoes of the legend lingered forever.


	6. Negotiations

That night, Tiani and Naryth slept in an old scrap shack, gorged on Cram and Fancy Lads Snack Cakes. Tiani was asleep as soon as her head hit her makeshift pillow. Naryth, not ready to sleep, sat outside the shack smoking cigarettes, observing the stars as they turned in the royal-blue sky.

 _I really need to stop smoking these things_ , she thought to herself, watching the edge of the cigarette grow long and drift to the ground. It lay glowing in the sand like a dim firefly. _I can't die of lung rot in the middle of the Wasteland. I gotta kill that guy first._

Naryth remembered little of her life before awakening in Goodsprings, but she did occasionally glean an insight on the way she used to be. She surmised from the voice in her heart that screamed for revenge against the man in the checkered suit that vengeance meant everything to her former self. Despite this acceptance of her brutal mindset, there was darkness in her soul that she couldn't quite recall, but was present nonetheless. Sometimes the way she handled situations, automatically looking out for herself above all, made her nervous. _Have I always been this selfish?_ she wondered. _These people are trying to survive and all I can think of is my goal to kill that bastard in the suit._

The bullet had lasting damage on Naryth's psyche. Her mind, both stubborn and stupid, repeatedly attempted to create new memories to fill in the blanks. She seemed to remember standing in a circle of ruined houses with a Ghoul, but no Ghoul had been with her that night on Cemetery Hill. She supposed the memories were a coping mechanism, a way to keep her from dwelling on the past. Survival, she assumed, was also important to her old self. If she lingered too long on the distant past, she might become blind to the immediate future.

There were problems in Naryth's brain, but also in her _mind._

It seemed that for every memory her brain created, it also lost a current one. Blank spots had begun to appear in her memory. One night, in the middle of a heated card game, she turned around to bash some cheater across the mouth with a baseball bat. Right before her hand touched the smooth wood, the world faded away. She "awoke" in her room, unscathed, baseball bat intact and clean. There was no evidence that a fight had taken place.

The blank spots weren't going away. They seemed to increase in frequency and duration. She supposed she could see Doc Mitchell about them, if she were welcome in Goodsprings anymore. He, at least, knew of her special condition.

Naryth flicked her cigarette, sending a cascade of amber and orange sparks skating across the dirt. _Who am I_? she wondered to herself again. _Am I ever going to figure out what it is I'm supposed to do?_

Frustrated, she stamped out her cigarette and crept back into the shack. She lay down on the floor next to Tiani's mattress and closed her eyes. If consciousness held no answers, then perhaps her dreams would be filled with prophets.

)-(

The first thing Tiani noticed about Courier Six was her _weirdness._

Though their pace slowed after passing HELIOS One, Naryth kept up a brisk speed all throughout the next morning, drinking cup after cup of wasteland coffee mixed with vodka. She meandered along the road, sometimes pausing at a crossroad to peer in all directions before abruptly turning and continuing. She spoke very little except to warn Tiani of danger; said danger mostly consisted of Mole Rats, dogs, and Cazadors. Naryth took care of the flying monsters with her sniper rifle, but it didn't take long for Tiani to notice that most of the time, Naryth missed entirely. Whatever skill she may have had with a shotgun, pistol, or normal rifle, it didn't extend to long-range weapons.

In the middle of her swift marches, Naryth would pause and suddenly busy herself picking nearby plants. When Tiani asked what the hell she was doing, Naryth only shrugged and stuffed the herbs in her pack. Once they spent a whole fifteen minutes trekking off-course because Naryth spotted a ripe Jalapeno patch. Tiani scowled at this, but again Naryth just shrugged and said the peppers would come in handy.

That night's supper consisted of Mole Rat steaks in a bed of fried peppers. It was, without a doubt, the best meal Tiani had ever consumed on the road.

The Mojave Wasteland was far from deserted. Merchants and their mercenary guards walked in both directions along the broken roads. These hardened men and women were nice enough, selling Naryth whatever they had and taking her spare weapons, clothing, and food in return. Most of the transactions were simple trades. At some point, Naryth discovered that Tiani was indeed better at haggling, and from then on she let the girl sell their goods.

They walked for two days in silence without much hassle. Typically, they bivouacked off the road under bridges, seeking shelter in merchant campsites. Tiani was surprised how easy it was for Naryth to remove her disguise and walk openly among the traders as herself. The traders loved her, especially since she came with whiskey and Jet to trade. They called her Cerus.

Sometimes there were no mass campsites to sleep in. Naryth would stretch a piece of canvas between two rocks or over the limbs of a dead tree; anywhere they could find shelter. Those nights, when they were forced to sleep in the open, were tense ones. Naryth awoke frequently to chase off curious creatures.

The second night they came upon a sudden drop-off above a flat, sand-blasted field. They pitched a tent under the natural cave formed by the overhanging rock wall. Tiani awoke in the dark, tense and trembling, straining her ears to hear whatever noise had awoken her. She glanced over at the bedroll where Naryth had been sprawled out. The other woman was already awake. Her eyes were wide, blue, and . . . _feral_. There was no alarm in them, only awareness. She didn't speak. She pressed one finger to her lips.

Tense, Tiani waited in the dark. The stretch of Brahmin hide canvas between them and the outside world suddenly seemed pitifully thin. She pressed herself deeper into the hollow. Naryth drew her gun and flicked off the safety. Something outside was snuffling. The noise drew closer, louder. Tiani swore that, for a split second, she saw a monstrous silhouette imprinted upon the tarp. The sniffing stopped. Tiani held her breath. Her heart thudded against her ribcage, as though it would burst out of her chest. _Hush, dammit_ , she told it, terrified, _that thing'll hear you!_

The creature outside grunted. It passed the tent by without investigating further.

For a few seconds Tiani didn't dare to take another breath. Then she saw Naryth flip the safety on and put down the gun. _We're okay_ , she mouthed. Tiani believed her implicitly. Naryth had spent months on her own in places more dangerous than this. If there was something to be worried about, the Courier would have told her.

Tiani released her pent up breath in a rush. Tears of relief were close behind; they tracked glittering trails down her cheeks. "What the hell was that?" she whispered.

"Brahmin, probably," said Naryth dismissively. She kept her voice pitched low, but Tiani could hear the amusement in it. "Sniffing our tarp and thinking it found a ladyfriend. Guess he got disappointed."

Tiani frowned. "Are you sure?"

"Sure as radiation sickness," replied Naryth promptly. "Go to sleep, eh?"

Tiani put her head back on the pillow, but it was a long time before she could finally fall back to sleep.

In the morning, finding Naryth gone, Tiani peeked her head out of the shelter. The Courier was busy sweeping gigantic tracks in the dirt with her hands, trying to cover them up. They looked like Deathclaw tracks.

Tiani decided not to mention this to Naryth.

)-(

Later in the day they spied Boulder City from the road. Crumbling concrete walls still stood amongst the rubble, reaching for the sky like futilely grasping fingers. Naryth and Tiani both checked their weapons, making sure they were close at hand. "Ready?" Naryth asked Tiani. The smaller girl nodded. Together they strode into the center of town.

A lone man stood in full NCR armor. He stood before a monolith of black stone, appearing to read the names emblazoned upon its smooth surface. When he saw them, he raised one hand. Naryth and Tiani stopped dead, unsure whether the gesture was a greeting or a warning. They waited for the soldier to approach. "Are you Cerus?" he asked Naryth. He didn't even look at Tiani.

Naryth blinked, flummoxed. "Uh . . . ."

A frown crossed the soldier's weathered, handsome face. "You said you'd help us. You said you're good at negotiating. We talked on the radio . . . .?"

"Oh, uh, yeah." Tiani squinted up at Naryth. She had never heard the woman sound so tentative. She rubbed the back of her head. "Yeah. We got held up a little. Sorry I'm late."

The soldier shrugged. "Come talk to Monroe, then." He beckoned them toward the edge of town. Naryth and Tiani followed him dubiously.

Monroe proved to be an NCR officer with gray hair and a very tired expression, standing where the crude wall and the rubble formed a narrow, dusty corridor. He leaned against a junk door with a cigarette clamped between his strong, white teeth. Tiani thought she had never seen a more defeated-looking man. He dismissed the trooper with a murmured word. When the trooper left, Monroe looked the women up and down. He took in Naryth's odd assortment of clothes without comment. Then his eyes flicked to Tiani. The girl knew what he must be thinking. Short, weak, scrawny girl, with a gun she definitely couldn't handle. Tiani felt her cheeks heat up, but stuck out her chin in defiance. Naryth had obviously thought Tiani was good enough, so Monroe could stick it.

"We've got a situation here with some Great Khans right now," he informed them, his tone dry and authoritative. Whatever he may have thought about the pair, he kept his observations to himself. "The brass at McCarran has ordered me to lock down the ruins until it's been resolved."

Naryth frowned. She ran a hand through her dirty hair. "What's going on with the Great Khans?" she asked.

"They took some of my men. The troops radioed for assistance but instead of waiting for us they chased the Khans into the ruins. No deaths, but not all of the squad got out. The Khans have Private Ackerman and Private Gilberts as hostages."

Naryth pondered this information. One boot gently tapped the dirt as she thought. Finally, she said, "I might be able to work something out." Monroe hesitated. He looked them over again.

"Normally I'd turn you down since I have no idea who you are, but considering the hostages are as good as dead when we attack . . . all right." Monroe stepped away from the door. He regarded the women seriously. "I'm going to give you a chance to talk to the Great Khans. Their leader is a man named Jessup. If we hear shooting, we're coming in, but it'll probably be too late for you."

Naryth smirked. "Don't worry about me. I can handle myself in a fight." To Tiani she said, "Maybe you should wait out here, kid."

"Absolutely not," retorted Tiani. "I'm coming with you."

Naryth sighed. "All righty. Come on then."

Monroe opened the door for them. "Good luck."

Naryth snorted. "Luck? I don't need luck. I've got guns."

They stepped through the door into the Boulder City ruins. Tiani whistled softly. The narrow passage had opened into a huge yard of stone and debris. Before the war, Boulder City had probably been a thriving metropolis. Now there were three buildings standing amidst the ruins like the stumps of trees long since cut down and hauled away for lumber. There were NCR soldiers everywhere, and although Tiani heard no gunfire or saw any threat, they still squatted in the dust, using the piles of concrete for cover.

Tiani shivered despite the heat of the day. A cool breeze drifted through the derelict streets like an omen. There was something eerie about the way the soldiers sat motionless, their eyes trained on the buildings with startling intensity, as if they could concentrate hard enough to kill the Khans with the force of their minds. As one, they turned their heads toward Naryth. One of them, probably the leader, muttered something to the others. They relaxed somewhat. Naryth nodded to them. "Gentlemen, ladies," she said, keeping her voice low.

"Are you the master negotiator?" asked a woman. Tiani heard doubt and sarcasm in her voice, but beneath that she could sense concern, bordering on anxiety. Her eyes were haunted and dull with exhaustion. She was worried for Privates Ackerman and Gilberts, and not even her disbelief of Naryth's ability could mask her feelings.

Naryth laughed. Tiani was shocked to see a good-natured smile on her face. It brightened her features in a way Tiani had never seen before. There was something spooky about it. "I'm no master, but I'll see what I can do," she replied. "I'll probably have to buy my way out of this." Tiani examined Naryth closely, thoughtfully, but found no answers in her benign expression.

The NCR woman nodded, apparently convinced. "Luck to you, ma'am."

Naryth sauntered down the road, planting one broken boot firmly before the other, her head held high, her hands away from her gun. She could have been walking down the street in Pre-War America for all the attention she paid to her surroundings. Tiani skittered nervously in Naryth's wake, keeping her hand firmly on the butt of her own gun. "Naryth," she whispered, "what the hell?"

Naryth kept walking. An odd feeling crept over Tiani. Naryth looked like a gunslinger from an old Western video; a hero marching to her doom (or perhaps triumph), ready to duel with the villain and save the town. But this was not a vid. This was reality. Naryth _was_ a gunslinger, a stranger, a hero of the desert. This . . . this was a legend.

Suddenly a realization came to her, the answer to the vague, half-formed question that had been floating around in her mind. Horror sank painful tendrils into her belly. The expression on Naryth's face was strange because she could _see_ Naryth's face. The Courier had not put on the disguise she used in Novac. "Naryth!" she hissed, "your mask!"

The Courier halted in her tracks. She bent close to the smaller girl and put a hand on her shoulder. "Tiani," she said in a low, kind voice, "put your hands at your sides and relax. And don't worry about my mask. I've got it covered. I have a plan."

Tiani blinked. "What?"

"Trust me," said Naryth in an undertone as they came up to the first building. She peered over a half door hanging brokenly on its hinges into the main room. There was a dark-skinned man leaning against the wall, guarding two NCR soldiers who were tied back-to-back. The recruits were slumped on the ground, tired but alive. Noticing them, the Khan glared at them and raised his rifle.

"I don't mean any trouble," said Naryth quietly. "I'm not here to kill you." He stared back, his filthy, scarred face twisted with rage and hate.

"Are you with the NCR?" he snapped, tensing like a dog ready to bite the unwary stranger.

"No," said Naryth, her voice calm and even. "I just want to help this situation a little. Where's Jessup?"

The man raised his rifle higher. Then he apparently thought better of it. Naryth had a dangerous appearance about her that could be perturbing to even hardened raiders. "Next door," he grumbled.

"Thank ya kindly." She tossed a pack of cigarettes at him. He caught them with a stunned expression. "Don't tell me ya don't smoke. Everybody does."

The man blinked, taken aback. "Thanks," he mumbled.

Naryth and Tiani backed out of the building and went next door.

The next-door building was warm, stuffy, and dim, the obvious remains of some kind of shop. Mattresses were scattered along the dusty floor, piled high with old books, bottles, and empty tin cans. Even by Wasteland standards, the building was a pigsty.

The two men behind the counter stood up the second Naryth opened the door. In the meager light cast by the lamps, Tiani saw their eyes bulge with shock, and the color fade from their suntanned faces.

The man with the Mohawk stared at Naryth as though he had seen a ghost. "What the hell?" he demanded. "You're that Courier Benny wasted in Goodsprings. You're supposed to be dead!"

Naryth laughed; a cold, bitter sound that chilled Tiani to the bone. She leaned against the door and put her hands in her pockets, at ease with her surroundings. "Well, I'm not, and I believe you have something of mine."

Jessup hesitated. His gaze lowered to the floor. "Yeah, about that . . . ."

Naryth leaned forward. "Where's the Platinum Chip?" she asked. There was no emotion in her cold, dead voice.

"Don't have it," grunted Jessup. "Benny stole it, right before he stabbed us in the back. He's probably back at the Strip by now, laughing at me."

Naryth's head dropped. She scowled. "God dammit," she muttered, half to herself. Even this display of frustration seemed calculated. Tiani wondered what Naryth's plan was.

"Yup," said Jessup, looking equally disgruntled. "Tell me about it, lady."

There was a pause, then Naryth finally said, "Let's talk about settling things between you and the NCR." Jessup grunted. He dug in his pocket and produced a lighter. The lighter was silver, ornate, and expensive. Tiani wondered how he acquired such a treasure. Jessup lit a cigarette, stuck the lighter in his pocket, and poked the cigarette into his mouth. "What's to negotiate?" he asked, releasing a cloud of bluish smoke from his nostrils, "the NCR backs off, we walk out of here, nobody gets hurt."

"Any chance you're willing to surrender?" asked Tiani. Naryth shot her a covert glance, but Tiani read approval in her expression rather than exasperation. This gave Tiani courage. "You could try waving a white flag."

Jessup snorted. He mashed his cigarette against the display case. "And face NCR 'justice'? No thanks, I'd rather not spend the next ten years of my life doing hard labor."

"I'm willing to try other suggestions," said Naryth calmly.

Jessup looked down at the filthy glass case, peering through the layer of grime at a cluster of empty bottles, deep in thought. "We'd try to bribe our way out," he said slowly, "but seeing as how Benny didn't pay us yet, that won't happen."

Naryth groaned. "God dammit," she said again.

The man next to Jessup spoke up. "Fuck Benny," he said, "he'll pay for ripping us off." Though his voice was low and regulated, fury radiated from him in waves. His hand clenched his machine gun in a death grip. Only his iron self-control kept his fingers from pulling the trigger. Naryth eyed him with approval. The man would be one hell of a soldier.

With a sigh and a low curse, Naryth looked down at her Pip-Boy. The Khan raised his gun. "Hey! Don't try anything!"

"I'm not gonna kill you with this thing," she said, annoyed. "It's a Pip-Boy, not an arm-cannon. I'm checking something."

Warily, the Khan looked at Jessup. Jessup waved a hand. "Let her go. She's buying our freedom." To Naryth he said, "Can you help us out, kid? We'll remember it in the future. Khan's honor."

Naryth closed the cover on her Pip-Boy. "Ya'll can't pay your way out of here . . . but I can. I'll go talk to Monroe."

"You can't be serious," Tiani blurted out. A blush spread across her cheeks when everyone, including Jessup, turned to stare at her. "I mean . . ." she trailed off and ducked her head. "Naryth, that's a lot of money; you can't be serious . . ."

"I can and I am," responded Naryth. "Now hush."

"But Naryth—" Her breath caught in her chest when she saw the woman's expression. She closed her mouth.

Jessup regarded them with amusement. "You've got your little servant on a tight leash," he remarked.

"She's _not_ a servant. She's my friend." She smiled grudgingly at Tiani. "And she's a pretty damn good one, too." Tiani beamed, flattered. Naryth grinned back and waved to Jessup. "We'll be back, friend. Don't try anything." She opened the door, and the two wanderers stepped out into the sunshine.

Tiani blinked and shaded her eyes with her hand. The sun seemed impossibly bright after the cooler dimness of the shop. "So you're going to pay?" she asked.

"Yup," said Naryth, nonchalantly tucking her hands into her pockets.

"Hold up! The negotiator's coming out!" The NCR soldiers stood up and watched them, their rifles half-raised. Naryth raised one arm in a token salute and let it drop back to her side, maintaining her ambling pace. The soldiers thankfully did not question them.

Tiani was silently thoughtful as they walked down the street, past the group of curious recruits, and down the passage toward the door into Boulder City. Thoughts jumped around in her mind, rising to the surface of her consciousness and jostling for her attention like insistent birds. Finally, she exclaimed, "How can you afford it, Naryth? And why?"

"Because I need that information," said Naryth simply.

"Is that why you didn't wear your mask?"

Naryth nodded. "I needed them to see me. To know my face and know who I am. I figured the shock would loosen Jessup's tongue. Guess I was right."

Tiani stopped. Her eyes widened. "You're smart," was her only comment. Naryth grinned and shoved the junk door open. Monroe was there to greet them just outside the door. He descended upon them like a bird of prey.

"How are the negotiations with the Great Khans going?" he asked. Naryth leaned on the wall, the very picture of apathy.

"How much money would I take for you to look the other way while the Great Khans left?" she drawled. Monroe stared at her as though he'd never seen her before.

"You mean just let them go? How would I explain that to my superiors?"

"Look at it this way—nobody dies." There might have been a joke hidden in there, but Tiani didn't think so. Naryth's expression was dead serious.

Monroe considered it. He scratched his head. "500 caps would go a long way for some soldier's families," he said finally.

Tiani blinked, stunned by the request. _That's ridiculous! There's no way_ anybody _can afford—_ "Done. Here's the caps."

Tiani gasped aloud. Monroe and Naryth both glanced at her, then went back to their business. Naryth counted 500 caps into a pouch and handed them to the NCR soldier. Monroe chuckled grimly as he accepted the pouch. "This doesn't feel quite right but it resolves things and gets my troopers back in one piece."

"I'll go tell the Khans that they can get lost." She opened the junk door and let Tiani in. She called over her shoulder, "See you in a second."

Monroe saluted. "Ma'am." When they were gone, Monroe chuckled to himself. That Cerus was a damn smart woman.

)-(

"I'm getting real tired of talking."

Jessup's voice rang out clearly in the little room. His fellow Khan stirred. His tone was forbidding, the sort of attitude one hears from a man inches from a brawl. Naryth stayed by the door, watching, waiting for him to calm down. "The NCR troopers have been paid to look the other way."

Jessup's eyes widened. He considered her with an expression of disbelief and grudging respect. "You really did it, huh?"

Naryth nodded. Her eyes never left his face.

Jessup took in a deep breath and let it out in a rush. "Then we are out of here!" he said happily. He dug something out of his pocket. "Here's a souvenir for you." He tossed a small object up in a shallow arc. It sailed through the air, throwing off silvery flashes, and landed neatly in Naryth's outstretched hand. She studied it, turning it over in her hand. It was the lighter Tiani had seen Jessup light a cigarette with. "It's Benny's lighter," explained Jessup. "Shove it up his ass when you catch up with him."

Naryth laughed. The lighter disappeared into her pocket. "I will, my friend, I will."

Jessup hesitated, and then nodded. "We'll see each other again," he said. Tiani knew, deep in her heart, that their paths would someday cross.

Jessup and his men gathered their few belongings and sauntered out the door. Tiani drew back when Jessup passed by. She caught a hint of his scent, a combination of sweat and leather not entirely unpleasant. He glanced at her inquiringly on his way out the door. Tiani felt a blush rise in her cheeks.

The door swung shut, leaving her alone with Naryth.

Naryth sighed. "Let's go, kid."

They emerged onto the street. About ten feet in front of them were two NCR soldiers, a man and a woman, walking with their arms around one another. Naryth and Tiani caught up to them. "You two all right?" Naryth murmured.

The woman nodded. Tiani wasn't sure whether she was Private Ackerman or Gilberts. "Yeah," was her equally quiet reply, "thanks for saving our asses."

Naryth chuckled. "The NCR owes me a favor."

The man snorted. "Don't count on it, girl."

Naryth bid them farewell and twitched her fingers at Tiani. They hurried out of the ruins. Tiani hoped they would catch one last glimpse of Jessup and his men, but the Khans were already gone. Monroe, however, was sitting in his chair by the HAM radio. Naryth tapped him on the shoulder. "I need to talk to you," she told him.

He put down his cup of coffee. "Yes?"

"Have you heard any reports from Nipton?"

"We lost radio contact with them . . . almost six weeks ago. I think there was a group en route to their location . . . ."

"Don't bother sending them. Nipton's dead."

Monroe tilted his head. "Nipton is dead?" he said slowly. "What do you mean?"

"I mean that a party of Legion raiders razed the whole place. Vulpes Inculta and his men crucified and burned most of the townspeople."

All the blood drained from Tiani's face. Suddenly she felt faint. She knew from the perplexed, sickened expression on Monroe's face that he felt the same way. "You passed through Nipton on your way to Novac," she whispered. It was no question. "You _knew_ about this for a month and a half?"

"I told some of the men at Ranger Station Charlie," was Naryth's grim reply. "Somehow I fear that, by telling them, I signed their death warrant. The Legion attacked everyone there about half an hour after I left. If I had napped a little longer . . . I might be dead too."

Monroe lapsed into silence. One hand stroked the handle of his coffee cup. "I thank you for telling me," he said, "but I'm not the one you should tell. If you don't mind, I'd like you to bring this information to the brass at the Mojave Outpost south of Goodsprings."

Naryth's eyelid twitched. "What?"

"They're the people who need to know."

"But you have a whole company right here!" Naryth protested.

"This company has been assigned to duty at Camp McCarran. We don't have time to walk all that way."

Naryth swore vividly. "It'll take us a _week_ to get down there! I've got places to go! Use your damn radio to buzz the brass!"

Monroe ducked his head. "Apologies, Miss Cerus, but the radio is broken." Naryth stood in silence, simmering in her fury. Tiani watched her face, fascinated. A vein pulsed in her temple. She ground her teeth; the sound made Tiani ill.

"Your radio," she said ominously, "is _broken_."

Monroe nodded. "Please proceed to the Mojave Outpost. If you do, I will reward you. If we ever see one another again, that is. Miss, the outpost needs to know—"

"FINE!" Naryth bellowed. Tiani and Monroe flinched. A crow pecking in the dust a hundred yards away took flight with a rusty caw. Naryth took in a deep breath. "I will go to the Mojave Outpost," she growled, "but so help me, if my prey gets away while I'm doing this . . . ."

Monroe offered his hand. "If it does, I'll help you find it again," he said.

Naryth snatched at his hand. The shake was quick, and Naryth released him as if the man were coated in some kind of unpleasant slime. "Thank you," she said grudgingly.

"Good hunting."

"Straight shooting and good fortune," she replied. "Let's go, Tiani."

They left Boulder City as the sun began to vanish, staining the ground in a burst of sunset hues. Their shadows stretched out long behind them, familiar and comfortable. There was only the rattling sound of distant gunfire and the screech of wind blowing over rocks half-sunken in sand. Naryth adjusted their course every so often, relying partly on the stars winking into visibility above them and partly on her Pip-Boy map. She ignored any ripe plants in their view. Every so often she would grumble a curse and squint into the steadily deepening darkness.

The pair had been walking for about two hours when Tiani finally found her voice. "Naryth?" she asked.

"Hmm?"

"How'd you know what to say to the Khans? I thought you said you were bad at haggling."

Naryth walked in silence for a bit. "Sometimes," she said, her voice quiet and pensive, "sometimes I'm just in that zone. When the ice freezes my anger over and my mouth takes control. And I knew I could buy their way out if I kept my cool. Those NCR pricks didn't want a fight. They wanted an escape. I gave them one."

"So where are we going now?"

"Mojave Outpost."

"Where are we going after that?"

"Vegas, maybe. I don't really know." She lit a cigarette with Benny's lighter and turned the lighter over and over, inspecting its surface. "I'm beginning to think this goes beyond a courier and a package of junk. I'm also beginning to think that the platinum chip was more than a platinum chip."

"What do you think it was?"

Naryth started to reply, then froze in her tracks. Tiani cast an uneasy glance around them. They had descended into a little dip between two hills. Shadows lay in the shallow area beneath the hills where the overhanging rock formed a pair of natural shelters. Something seemed to be moving down there. Naryth drew her rifle. "Who's there?" she called.

Suddenly their surroundings were busy. Atop the hills shapes stood up, looming over them in the darkness. They streamed out of the hollows, bunched together in long ribbons of jostling bodies. Each one held some kind of weapon; a few pistols, many baseball bats and lead pipes. Naryth didn't ask who they were. She fired twice, taking down two of the shapes. "Don't let them circle us!" Tiani heard her shriek, and then all was lost in the thicket of fighting.

Tiani drew her knife and jabbed blindly outward. It cut through vulnerable flesh with sickening ease; a man screamed. His pipe whipped through the air, aimed for her head, forcing her to release her knife. It remained stuck in his shoulder. In the darkness, his silhouette appeared to have grown a strange appendage.

The air was full of yells and curses, the stink of blood and sweat. Naryth fired her rifle empty and used it as a club. She swung two-handed, caving in skulls and breaking bones. She ignored the shallow slices that tore open her shirt and scratched her stomach. When a baseball bat clipped her elbow, she snarled and bashed the assailant's head in. He dropped like a stone. Naryth seized his knife and threw it in a hard arc, aiming for the woman running toward her with a cleaver in hand. The knife hit its mark; the woman stumbled and fell forward into the dirt, the cleaver spilling from her nerveless fingers.

Despite Naryth's warning, the tide of raiders eventually surrounded them. She and Tiani stood back-to-back, picking their enemies off one by one. The gunmen kept to the hills; Naryth blew them away with her duel-wield pistols. Tiani stole a dull machete and stabbed at anyone who dared come too close. She did not want to kill, but survival overrode her morals. She killed, again and again, using whatever weapons were close at hand, operating on some kind of obscene auto-pilot. Scores of shallow nicks lined her torso and arms, but most of the damage dealt by the raiders went to Naryth. For the most part, they ignored Tiani entirely, as if they knew Naryth was the Courier. A vague suspicion floated to the top of her mind, then faded away when she blocked a vicious blow from a foe with a pipe.

For Tiani, the battle seemed to last for hours. Her arms felt weak and worn out, like springs ready to break. Blood dribbled down her face. Naryth sagged against her, using her side for support. The cloud of raiders thinned; about half a dozen of them threw down their weapons and fled. Naryth let them go. She had other troubles. There was a knife tip stuck in her thigh. The fingers on her right hand wouldn't close properly. She could barely breathe. _I DO need to stop smoking_ , she thought as she wrestled a knife away from a grimy man with a mane of wild hair. He swore at her and wrenched his arm, a limb as thick as her leg, back. She hung on grimly, seeking to pinch nerves and prize the instrument from his hand. There were only about ten raiders left now; they had retreated into a cluster and took turns chopping at Tiani and Naryth, jabbing outward with their weapons.

Suddenly Naryth was exasperated. Before she had only felt the blind rage that comes with being taken by surprise, and the battle-lust that was in itself an integral part of her nature. Throwing her empty pistols into the dirt, she howled, "Oh, SCREW THIS!" She ducked under a sword swipe and yanked a machine gun out of the pile of bodies at her feet. The trigger was old and rusty, but it moved with a little pressure. She squeezed as hard as she could, sending a spray of bullets in the raiders' direction.

That did it. They broke and ran, screaming their frustrations to the sapphire sky. Roaring curses (in two languages: Naryth had picked up a series of Russian swear words from an old drifter), she chased after them. She fired again and again, not so much aiming as _sweeping_ , seeing only the backs of those who had caused her pain. Tiani picked up a gun and ran for her life, pursuing the Courier who was her only defense from the world. She had not run far before a figure came trotting towards her, stumbling a little over the uneven surface. She couldn't see its face, but knew it to be Naryth all the same; everything, from her stooped shoulders to her harsh pants for breath, indicated her identity. Instantly Tiani relaxed. They were together again; the safest partnership in the whole Mojave, and everything was okay now. "That was impressive!" cried Tiani. "Damn! I mean, losing your temper like that in front of all those raiders? God!" Chuckling, she bent at the waist and withdrew her knife from the dead raider. "Wow, Naryth, what a way to get mad."

"You might wanna hold off on the praise, kid," Naryth said, her voice strained and strangely choked. The smile slid off Tiani's face.

"What do you mean? Whoa!" She stumbled over a small, roundish object in the dirt. She withdrew terrified for a second she had stepped on a grenade. It threw off sparks when she treaded upon it. "Holy shit! What is that?!"

Naryth lurched closer, uttering an odd little moan. She held her arm close to her body, cradling the injured limb with the uninjured one, concealing her hand in the fold of her trench coat. It didn't take long for Tiani to see her trembling. "That's mine," she forced out.

The object was not a grenade. It was disembodied hand. Tiani's eyes widened. The numbness spread through her body in a single swoop. The hand was small, pale, scarred. A nub of bone extended out of the reddish meat, along with tendons and muscles and—

Wires?

In the sick-green light cast by Naryth's Pip-Boy, Tiani saw the sparks issue from four tiny wires poking out of the hand. The bone was shot through with dark metal fragments. At first Tiani thought they were shrapnel, but soon she saw that they were a part of the bone.

Slowly, Tiani looked up. Her eyes met Naryth's in the dark. The Courier's face was pale and drawn. Grimacing, she offered her truncated arm. Electricity crackled along the severed limb like a lightning rod. "Can you pick that up for me?" she asked in a strangely calm voice. Her eyes rolled up in her head. She swayed on her feet and fell face-forward into the dirt in a dead faint.

It was then that Tiani began to scream.


	7. Synthetic

_Oh my God oh my God oh my God-_

Naryth's cheesy-white face **—**

_Oh my GOD oh no what do I do **—**_

The blood pooling around her **-**

_Oh my God **—**_

The disembodied hand still throwing off sparks **—**

_Help **—**_

There was no one, not even **—**

_Someone, anyone, please!_

Tiani dug frantically in her pack, throwing clothes and supplies everywhere in her haste. There, at the bottom of the bag. A dusty bottle filled with a rich amber liquid, glinting in the cold fire of starlight. She tore a ragged strip from an old shirt and doused it in whiskey, as if to create a Molotov cocktail. _Silly me, those require gasoline._ She bit the inside of her cheek, fighting against wild hysteria. It was not a good time to panic. She took the rag and wrapped it tightly around the stump of Naryth's wrist. Alcohol mixed with blood. Amber-red beads splattered on her clothes. She tied the wrist off with a second cloth and held on grimly, pulling the tourniquet tight. _Stims. I need Stims._

There were two Stimpaks in her pack. The rest were in Naryth's Pip-Boy, which she did not know how to operate. She whipped out one of the Stimpaks and injected it directly into one of the big veins of the woman's arm, working as she had been taught. _The Legion may have just saved Naryth's life again . . . if I don't mess this up_. Tiani did not believe in God (what God would let the world disappear into a cloud of fire and radiation?) but she prayed anyway. Naryth's face was ashen, turning leaden. The chemicals went to work. The biological agents stimulated regrowth on the small cuts that covered her body, and slowed the bleeding on her abbreviated arm. The wires still threw off sparks.

_Why does Naryth have wires in her skin?_

A shuddering moan. The sound spiraled horribly into the night. Naryth's bloodshot eyes flickered open. "My hand," she rasped through numb lips. She was trembling harder than Tiani had ever seen. Shock. She reached out for the lump of dead flesh that had once been a part of her. "My hand!"

"It's gone, Naryth," Tiani said, quiet but firm.

"No, you idiot! Give it to me!"

"Why?"

"DO IT!" roared Naryth, frightening Tiani badly. She unleashed a tortured cry, snarling in her hurt like a wild animal caught in a bear trap. "Give it to me now! Before it's too late!"

Hastily Tiani picked up the hand. It was still warm, and it twitched when she lifted it. She passed the gruesome object to its owner like an offensive gift. Naryth was panting by then. She aimed her Pip-Boy light at her other arm, eyeing the wires and metallic bone fragments. She twisted her arm and the hand around as if trying to line the pieces up like a puzzle. She squinted. "Got one try," Tiani heard her mutter, "I'd better not fuck this up . . . ."

"Naryth, what are you—" Tiani started to say, and then stopped when the Courier jammed her hand back onto her wrist, sending sparks flying through the air. There was a dull crunch and a thud as the ends of bone collided. The tangy odor of lightning wafted into her nose. "Naryth! That isn't going to—"

"Stim," the Courier interrupted. Her eyes were full of pain, but also a shocking awareness. "NOW! I've got it lined up! Quick! Right above the wound!"

Tiani picked up the Stimpak and injected it into Naryth's wrist.

Instantly the woman relaxed. Her face took on a dreamy quality. Her whole body sagged. Tiani tried to straighten her, but Naryth waved her away. "Nah, nah." Even her voice was peaceful. "Go start a fire, huh?"

"But—"

"Don't worry about it." She waved her injured hand. The fingers flopped around limply, but the hand stayed attached. "I've got a Super-Stim for this reason. About an hour and I'll be good. I'll get that out, okay?"

The change in Naryth was dramatic. She spoke quietly and rationally. Tiani gathered up some of the nail boards the raiders had wielded, using their clothes as a starter for their fire. The two camped under one of the overhangs. Naryth sat in the bowl-shaped depression, humming to herself, leaving Tiani to throw their canvas over the ledge and set out the bedrolls Naryth removed from her Pip-Boy's STORAGE. Naryth's placidity was unnerving. She acted as though she had not just performed a miracle that even the most skilled of wasteland surgeons could not achieve.

Tiani frisked the dead raiders outside and assembled a dinner of junk food and dehydrated Dandy Boy Apples. When she returned she found Naryth smoking a cigarette (taking care not to ignite the canvas cover) and stretching her recently reattached fingers with an expression of bemusement. There was an empty Jet inhaler beside her. Tiani offered Naryth food, which she pleasantly declined. Tiani, however, would not turn down a meal. She devoured her food in silence.

"I see you used my whiskey," commented Naryth. Tiani looked up sharply, ready to tear the woman's head off if she protested. But there was no rage in her expression. "Very smart, Tiani. How'd you think of that?"

Tiani looked down. "It's one of the things they taught in the Legion camp," was her quiet reply, "how to heal in a world without medicine and surgery."

"You did a good job." Tiani looked up at Naryth. The woman smiled back. Since when did Courier Six give compliments?

"Are you okay?" she asked suspiciously.

Naryth laughed lightly. "I'm fine." She held up her arm. A needle ran its way into her veins, feeding Stimpak-fluid into her by means of a long piece of surgical tubing. It was strapped to her arm with a leather belt. "This thing will keep me alive."

"Oh." Tiani fiddled with a slice of apple. The campfire painted shadows onto the wrinkled edges of the fruit. "Naryth?"

"Yeah?"

"Why are there wires in you?"

For the first time, Naryth sobered. "It's a long story," she said. She tousled her own hair. "I dunno why, really . . . I don't remember. I woke up like this, though. In Goodsprings. Doc Mitchell asked me why there were wires and little chips and lights in my brain. I couldn't tell him. I didn't know. He said the parts looked to be in unusually good condition, as if they were implanted yesterday. He also said they were—oh how did he put it?—'an integral component of my cranial structure.' Or something like that. Said my frontal lobe was almost jelly when he took me apart, but then it started fixing itself at an accelerated rate as soon as he gave me a Super-Stim. He'd never seen anything like it. I learned quickly that Stimpaks help out the healing process. I still haven't tested out all my abilities . . . I just know I heal easier, I form addictions faster, and my skeleton is comprised of bone and some percentage of a flexible metallic alloy."

"So you're a synth?" asked Tiani.

"Partly, I guess," said Naryth. She slapped her thigh with a rueful grin. "I've even got an artificial intelligence program that stores my memories and analyzes situations. Somehow we got it hooked up to VATS. I adapted to the use of that rather quickly."

Tiani frowned at Naryth. "Are you through hiding secrets from me?" she asked.

Naryth bit her lip. The hurt and dejection in her voice made guilt bloom in the pit of Naryth's stomach. She met Tiani's gaze with an effort. The younger girl blinked, appearing uncomfortable. "Tiani, I didn't tell you because I didn't think it was important." Naryth tried to stay calm and rational, but she could hear the desperation and deep feeling in her own tone, like a child struggling to explain itself to its mother. "I'm just as human as you are. I mean, it's not all well and good. I have just as many disadvantages as advantages."

Tiani stoked the fire, watching sparks float up into the air, trapped by the oppressive rock ceiling. The warmth was comforting on such a frightening night. The smoke was thin enough to dissipate without needing a chimney. She stared into the flames, watching the nails imbedded in the wood turn a dull red. The fire served as a distraction. She didn't like hearing Naryth sound so anxious and distressed. The gunslinger was supposed to be strong, and should never have to explain anything to someone as pitiful and insignificant as herself. She fed another scrap of wood into the fire. "Hmm. Well . . . is there anything else you need to tell me?"

Naryth opened her mouth to speak. Now was the perfect time. She could tell Tiani about the blank spots in her memory. She could try to describe the shaking, the withdrawals, the feeling of someone whispering in her ears, telling her what to do. She could tell Tiani that she feared going mad, because that would be a fate even worse than a bullet to the brain.

Instead she thought better of it. Best keep herself to herself. She grinned instead, and declared, "Not a thing. But I gotta say, I'm damn glad to have you in my party. Thanks to you, Doctor Strong." She bowed. The gesture was odd in a sitting woman, but she did it anyway. It made Tiani laugh.

"I'm not a doctor," muttered Tiani, lowering her gaze. She poked the fire again. She could feel heat in her cheeks that had nothing to do with the flames. "I'm a medic."

"What's the difference?" demanded Naryth.

"Well . . . a doctor cures people. A medic just makes them more comfortable . . . while they die."

Naryth was speechless.

Tiani squirmed, uncomfortable with the woman's stare. "Perhaps you should sleep?" she offered hopefully.

Naryth shook her head slowly. "Nah, but you should. You need it."

Tiani was too weary to disobey. She crawled heavy-eyed onto her bedroll and pulled a blanket over her shoulders. She was asleep in a moment.

A clang in the darkness hurtled her back into consciousness. Her weary body protested as she sat upright, seeking the gun under her pillow. When her eyes adjusted to the darkness, she saw only Naryth's outline. The courier stared at back at her, wide-eyed and confused. "What?" she asked innocently.

Tiani swore silently and looked around. The fire burned low and comforting in the center of the natural bowl, but even its meager light made Tiani's head ache. "I heard something."

"That was me." Naryth sounded embarrassed. There was a tinkling noise from her direction. "I was taking stuff out of my Pip-Boy."

"Oh for God's sake, Naryth!" she exclaimed, fed up. Instantly her breath caught in her chest. Had she really just yelled at the hero of the Wasteland? She sighed. "All right, Naryth, what were you doing?

The woman seemed unaffected. "Come here, girl." She crooked a finger at Tiani. "I want to show you something."

Tiani blinked, wary. Perhaps Naryth _was_ a little angrier than she seemed. "Show me what?"

"I'll show you what I'm showing you, if you'll let me show you." Naryth flipped on her Pip-Boy light. Now Tiani could see the drift of glass bottles that twinkled in the light of the campfire like stars in a dusty galaxy. Closest to Naryth was a cluster of bottles that gave off a faint purplish glow, like some kind of radiation. "I'm bored, and I'm sober, and my hand itches something fierce."

Tiani blinked again. "Okay?"

"I'm gonna show you something I like to call a Nuka Bomb." Naryth popped the purplish-blue bottle open with the edge of her knife. "Ever had Nuka Quantum?" Tiani shook her head. Naryth's eyes widened. "Sacrilege," she declared. "Absolutely a sacrilege. Nuka-Cola Quantum is _amazing_."

"So what is a Nuka Bomb?" asked Tiani.

Naryth grinned. In the greenish-blue light, her face looked positively ghastly, like a walking corpse. She poured a little of the Quantum into a chipped tumbler and added vodka. Then, after some deliberation, added some whiskey. " _This_ is a Nuka Bomb." The whiskey mixed in with the glowing Quantum, fizzling. Naryth waited patiently until the foam receded. Tiani was fascinated by the way the amber whiskey and the blue Quantum roiled around in the glass together, but did not mix. Eventually the Quantum settled to the bottom. Tiny bubbles rose to the top of the concoction and burst there. "It tastes like . . . man. Tastes like amazing."

"Are you sure you should be drinking?" Tiani asked. "I mean . . . you lost quite a bit of blood . . . ."

Naryth waved this away. "I'm fine. I'm thirsty." She offered the glass to Tiani. "Seriously, girl, try this."

Tiani smelled the drink. It was sweet, with a faint alcohol scent. "I don't know," she said doubtfully, staring at the swirl of color.

Naryth shrugged. "Oh fine." She downed the tumbler in a quick gulp. Smacking her lips, she began to pour herself a second one. "You're just no fun, Tiani."

The girl pouted. "Yes I am!"

"Oh yeah? Prove it." Naryth held the glass out to Tiani. The glowing liquid hung tantalizingly just beneath her mouth. _I really shouldn't, but what the hell_? Tiani took the glass and drained it.

The effects of the drink immediately hit her. The world zoomed in and out of focus. Everything flooded full of vibrant hues. She held out her arms to steady herself. She felt as though she were floating through a tunnel of iridescent, flickering lights. " _Whoa_ ," she whispered.

Naryth grinned. "I know," she said, "ain't it maah-velous?"

"It's—it's something," admitted Tiani. She inspected the fire. The coals were as vividly red as rubies to her newly-enhanced vision. "This . . . was worth it."

Naryth poured her another. "Then two will be doubly worth it."

Two drinks later, the women began to sing. It was slurry and out-of-key, but Naryth's enthusiasm was more than compensation. Tiani sang softly, mostly to herself, and toyed with the rim of her glass. What a fun night.

Naryth's rough tenor voice was surprisingly appealing. She belted out every song in her memory. After _Blue Moon_ came _Something's Gotta Give,_ and _Johnny Guitar._ As soon as that song came to an end, she lapsed into silence, happily polishing off the last of her fifth Nuka Bomb and her third bottle of Quantum.

"You sing really good," giggled Tiani. Everything seemed hilarious to her tonight.

"Thanksya," slurred Naryth. "It'sh . . . a gift 'r somethin." She launched into a mostly-coherent rendition of _I Don't Want to Set the World on Fire._

"You . . . uh . . . y'really like that song, don'tcha?" asked Tiani.

"Hell yeah!" Naryth declared. "I could listen to it f'r _ever_."

"Why?" Naryth grinned. "Cause they—cause they uh, did what th **'** song said. They set th **'** world on fire. Yaknow?" Tiani was impressed with Naryth's philosophical thought. After all the liquor they had both consumed, it was a miracle she could speak at all. "That's . . . that's deep, Naryth."

The woman laughed. The Nuka Bomb in her hand slopped out over its glass, staining her glove. "Ya know what else is deep?" Tiani thought hard, but she couldn't think of a single thing that seemed even as poetically rational as that. The image of the Pre-War people setting the world on fire had captured her attention. It was a haunting yet beautiful picture. "No?"

"BrocFlowerCave."

"Oh yeah?"

"Yep!" Naryth set her glass down. "Lots of plants, too, up there. There wasn't so many . . . once."

"Huh?" The world had always seemed fertile to Tiani. "When?"

Naryth paused. "Oh, here a couple years ago . . . ." She hiccupped, squinted into her shot glass, and corrected herself. "No . . . that . . . uh, that wasn't the same place. Different place. Different . . . different _time_."

Suddenly Tiani realized what must be happening. The idea burst through the fog of alcohol and exited her lips. "You're remembering!" she cried joyfully, startling them both. "Oh, have another drink!"

"I remember . . . being _really_ drunk." Naryth chuckled and clumsily poured some plain vodka into a glass. The clear liquid spilled everywhere, but Naryth kept trying. "I was . . . chasin **'** some guy."

Tiani was disappointed. Clearly the Courier hadn't remembered _anything_. " _Naaaaryth_ ," she whined, "that's _now_!"

"No it ain't!" Naryth retorted. "S'different."

"Well you _are_ a cuh . . . a cou . . . a car . . ." Tiani gave up on the word and substituted, "you're a mailman."

"No," said Naryth, abandoning her attempt to pour vodka into a glass and drinking straight from the bottle instead. "Imma _courier_. Courier Naryth the Brave, Hero of the Wastes!" Naryth sprang to her feet and brained herself on the rock ceiling. "Ow!"

Tiani bellowed with laughter, holding her churning stomach. "Ahh my God!" she cried. "Good job!"

"Shut up," grumbled Naryth. A strange gleam came into her eye as she looked Tiani up and down. The girl stopped smiling. Her partner's face seemed predatory. "Say uh . . . ain't you . . . that girl from-uh . . . Novac?"

"Nooo, I'm Tiani the superhero!" Tiani overbalanced and rocked alarmingly to the side, toward the coals of their campfire. With an effort, she righted herself. The world was spinning just a little. "The amazing Tiani!"

Naryth frowned. "Where'd you come from?" she asked.

"Uh, duh, we travelled together?" Tiani adopted a slow tone that one would typically use for a small, dumb child.

"No we didn't!" exclaimed Naryth. "Where . . . where's . . . the uh . . ." she rubbed the back of her neck, "the guy!"

"That's who we're gonna find!" replied Tiani, as though it were obvious. "The guy who shot you!" She kept speaking in the same tone. Her head was obviously a little clearer than Naryth's, especially if the courier had forgotten her goal _and_ her companion. She made a hazy mental note to separate Naryth from the booze. If _this_ was the way she acted when intoxicated, it would make their lives a whole lot harder.

"Oh." Naryth paused and folded her hands underneath her chin. She stared into the fire for a long, uncomfortable moment. Her face was red, and there were dark circles under her eyes. She looked haunted by something.

All the mirth drained out of Tiani like water out of a broken pot. She began to suspect there was something wrong with the courier, something eating away at her, threatening to tear her apart. Maybe the drinking wasn't entirely for the sake of being drunk. Maybe there was something more than just fun involved.

Naryth lifted her head and said, perfectly polite, "Do . . . do you remember my name?"

Tiani forced out a halfhearted giggle. "Sure I do," she said, trying to make herself sound carefree. "It's Naryth!"

"That ain't my name."

"Sure it is!"

"Is _not_!" snapped Naryth. She seemed agitated now. Her bloodshot eyes flicked everywhere, looking at everything but seeing nothing. The harsh lines between her eyes and around her mouth deepened, giving her the appearance of a woman twice her age. "Nnnnot my name. You lose."

"But—"

"Nope! Not my name, you uh, you lose." Then her manner changed yet again. The lines smoothed out. Her blue eyes lost their frosty sheen, warming into something kind. "Can you tell me how to get to the Vault?" she asked. Her voice was perfect; no slur, no hesitation. The even, measured cadence was a little unnerving.

Tiani squinted at the courier. "Which Vault?" she asked. "There are . . . like . . . a billion." The idea of a billion Vaults nearly blew her poor, intoxicated mind.

The question threw Naryth off. She scratched her head. "Uh, Vault . . . 22? I think . . . ." Naryth was becoming incoherent again; her words took on that special, fuzzy quality that only drunks seem to have. "I think I've been there," she mumbled.

Tiani looked at her, utterly bewildered. Her mind was filled with whiteness. Not a single idea or insight came to her about what the hell Naryth could be rambling about. "You're confusing me," she said.

"You're confusing _me_ ," replied Naryth. She swayed a little in place. "Who am I again?"

"You're silly," said Tiani. Despite her best efforts, frustration had crept into her tone. Her head throbbed. All she wanted to do was end this conversation and go to bed. "You're really, really silly."

"No, I mean, seriously, _who am I_?" She fixed Tiani with a piteous stare. "Who _am_ I?" she repeated, her words clear in her panic. "Why don't I know?!" She seized an empty Nuka-Cola bottle by her feet and hurled it out into the dark. The sound of shattering glass was like a bomb in the distance. She clenched her face in her hands and began to rock back and forth, as if she could force her memories to work by sheer concentration. "Who is Naryth? Who's Tiani? Who's me? Who's Cerus?!"

"Who _is_ Cerus?" Tiani asked quietly.

Naryth froze. One bright eye peeped out at Tiani from between Naryth's splayed fingers. "No one," she said wonderingly, "no one." She repeated the words, tasting them, loving the feel of freedom and relief they brought. It was as though by admitting Cerus's nonexistence, she had set herself free from the deep well of confusion and horror she had found herself in since her revival in Goodsprings. "Just someone I used to believe in."

"What do you mean?" Tiani asked.

A scowl crossed her face. "Nothing." She crawled onto her bedroll and fixed Tiani with an angry, penetrating stare. The girl squirmed and lowered her head. "No more questions." Her eyes blazed, but if they did, why did Tiani feel so cold? The courier curled up in a ball and threw a blanket over her head, presenting Tiani with her back. "Good night, kid." Tiani blinked at the sudden change.

"Good night, Courier Six," she said into the silence. "Whoever you are."

The hours until dawn stretched out agonizingly long. Tiani dozed a little, unwilling to sleep for fear of attack. Her head and stomach throbbed in simultaneous waves of nauseating pain. _It was a bad idea to drink_ , she despaired. _I'll never make that mistake again._

At last, dawn came, and Tiani roused herself to pack their supplies and take down the canvas. Naryth snored her way through the hours until noon, when she awoke with a snort and absently chastised Tiani for not waking her. Naryth held her head in her hands as she scolded, plainly suffering from an intense hangover.

"Do we have any Mentats?" she asked Tiani wearily. The girl dug in her bag and produced a little box. "Thanks." Naryth popped two of the tablets into her mouth and took a swig of Nuka-Cola. "Fuck it, let's go, I want to get to the goddamn place today."

The companions travelled quickly across the barren ground, driven by Naryth's frustration. They took very short breaks every few hours, but it wasn't long before Naryth started getting impatient. Their route took them around Novac, crossing down to the Long 15, doubling the distance they had walked the day before. It was almost two in the morning when they stopped for a few hours' sleep. Naryth refused to relax. She glared into the campfire until 0600, when she woke Tiani. Tiani's overworked legs ached fiercely from the strenuous walking. She begged Naryth for rest. "We can sleep when we get there," was her grumpy answer.

***

They did not arrive the next night.

It was on the fourth day of travelling that the statue came into view. It was an ugly yet awe-inspiring construction built in the shape of two men shaking hands, their features weathered from years and nature. Beyond the statue lay their objective, the Mojave Outpost.

Naryth was dead on her feet. She shuffled down the rotted roads like a confused Feral Ghoul. Her speech was slow and slurred. Her aim was so poor that the task of scorpion-killing fell to Tiani. The night before their arrival, Naryth almost led them into a Raider camp. It was only fate and Tiani's paranoia that took them off the road in a wide arc around the Raider territory. Doggedly they pressed on, all the way past the ruined Nuka-Cola trucks and up to the front office of the Mojave Outpost. After giving a mostly-lucid report to the troop behind the desk, Naryth found the NCR bunkroom and commandeered a pair of beds for herself and Tiani. She slept for twenty hours.

The next day, after a hot meal and a drink, Naryth met Ghost, the NCR sniper. They discussed Nipton and the Legion. Ghost had seen the smoke plumes rising from the town, and guessed that some cruel fate had befallen the townspeople. Soon they fell to talking about anything of interest, and became involved in several heated debates about the pros and cons of handmade ammo.

Naryth, though impatient to arrive in New Vegas, seemed reluctant to leave the NCR outpost. She had made friends with cocky, sarcastic Ghost, and there were plenty of opportunities to earn some caps. She completed some tasks near the old Highway 95 underpass, just east of the Nipton Road rest stop where they had killed Radscorpions a few days before. She seemed at home among the brown-clad soldiers and chatty officers, and the steady flow of caps satisfied her greed.

It drove Tiani crazy to stay in one place so long. She wanted to go back to Novac and check in on Miss Crawford, to see how she was handling the Dino Dee-Lite. As exciting as life with Naryth was, Tiani missed the place she considered home. She debated asking Naryth if she would go back to Novac for a few days, just enough time to restock and recuperate. Finally she decided that Naryth's wrath was worth the risk, and went to find her.

She found Naryth in the barracks, drinking in the bar with a redheaded woman. The bar exploded into noise when Tiani entered; Naryth had told the other woman a joke, and her slurry laughter filled the room. The other patrons snickered to themselves, seeming at ease in Naryth's company.

Tiani hovered by the door. "Um, Naryth?" she asked tentatively.

Naryth turned to her. "Oh, hey." She attempted to stand, then gave up and remained lounging on her stool. A clump of hair brushed her reddened face, shading one eye. "Uh, what?"

"Well, I was wondering . . . can we get on the road? Maybe go back to Novac for a while?"

Naryth hesitated. "Uh, yeah." She rubbed the back of her neck. "Let's uh . . . let's get on the road, eh?" She clapped a hand to the redhead's shoulder. "See you later, Cass."

The redhead lifted her glass. "See you around, Courier," she said, hiccupping. "Remember the name I told you. Alice McLafferty. Don't forget."

"I won't," Naryth promised. She stood up with difficulty and ambled off to the bunks to grab her pack. "Let's go, kid."

"Are you sure?" Tiani asked doubtfully. "You're a little unsteady."

"Bah!" Naryth waved her hand. "I c'n shoot straight. Let's head out."

Calling goodbyes to the room at large, Naryth and Tiani departed from the bunkroom and made their way back down the hill, past the Nuka-Cola trucks, the Nipton   Road rest stop, the Highway Patrol building. The morning sunshine beat down on their necks. They kept mostly to the road until Naryth spied coyotes sprinting through the hills. She halted. Tiani collided painfully with her back, but Naryth paid no mind.

"That's interesting," she said, squinting at the animals. "They're running pretty fast. I wonder what's up there."

"Probably Mole-Rats or something," said Tiani.

"Hmm." Naryth tramped off after them.

Tiani's jaw dropped. Naryth was really going to follow a bunch of coyotes? "Naryth, this is a bad idea," she protested, hurrying along behind the taller woman. "What if we run into more raiders?"

"Then I'll shoot them," said Naryth patiently. "Come on, Tiani, I'm curious. Coyotes don't run like that unless there's some goal in mind. And I doubt it's raiders, since I don't hear any yelling or gunfire. Maybe it's a couple Brahmin we can carve up. I hate eating dog meat." She put on her goggles and tied her bandanna around her mouth. "Let's go," she said, voice muffled by the cloth.

Tiani didn't dare ask to stay behind. Steeling herself, she gripped the butt of her gun for comfort and started after Naryth.

The pair trudged through the hills. Coyotes growled at them from their dens. They lined up like spectators, or marchers in a funeral procession. There was something oddly solemn about them, and dangerous, too. The mothers stood protectively in front of their litters of whining pups to shield the smaller creatures from the strangers. Tiani eyed them, nervous. They did not attempt to attack, but a hungry animal could turn on a human at any time. A pair of coyotes flanked them, crawling so low their bellies nearly scraped the sand. Tiani pointed her pistol at the closer one, aiming for the beast's head. Naryth pushed the barrel down. "Leave them," she said, her voice oddly gentle. "They're not attacking us; they're just concerned for their young. We're the intruders up here."

Tiani swallowed hard and put away her gun. It took a fantastic effort to not shoot the scrawny creatures.

The trail ended at a gap in the mountain, where the wall of rock that surrounded the Mojave had either fallen or been blown apart. The gap was full of junk; a bus, some old footlockers, some ruined Corvegas. There were words scrawled upon the detritus in various colors of spray paint. The one that caught Tiani's eye immediately was a bright yellow line on the side of the bus.

_Courier Six?_

Cold, Tiani turned to Naryth. The other woman's eyes were trained upon the spray paint. Her lips moved. Tiani saw her mouth the words written upon the bus.

Looking around Tiani saw other references to Naryth. They were written with a steady and deliberate hand. The very dedication of each letter sent shudders down Tiani's spine.

_You can go home, Courier._

_Six?_

A strange black symbol on a yellow field that Tiani eventually recognized as a backwards six.

Most perplexing of all were the words _Lonesome Road_ and _The Divide._ The divide of what? Surely it didn't mean the land of the killing wind from the stories . . .

"Naryth?" Tiani's voice didn't sound quite like her own. It was too weak and fainting to possibly be hers. "Naryth, what is this?"

The other woman did not respond. Her body was rigid. She seemed to have frozen up. Squatting before the sign bearing the legend _Lonesome Road_ , she dug around in the suitcase lying at its base. The bag contained a 9mm wrapped in dirty bandages and some other supplies. Naryth stored the gun in her Pip-Boy. She rocked on her heels as she worked, sorting through the useful supplies with mechanical detachment.

"Naryth?"

"Hush, Tiani," said Naryth absently. She sounded as though she wasn't aware the girl was there. Her eyes roved over the paint-smeared cars as though she could get a hint from the arcane symbols. "I don't know what's going on."

Tiani was trembling. She'd never been so scared in her life. Dealing with the Fire Geckos in Novac, battling the raiders, and fixing Naryth's hand didn't compare to the raw terror she felt right now. Why? The paint was old, cracked and dry; whoever had done this was long gone.

Whoever had taken the time to set up a display like this could only be a madman.

"What does it mean?" Tiani asked in a small voice.

Naryth straightened. In her hands was a scrap of cloth with something else drawn upon it, another icon. This one was even stranger: a star, surrounded by a ring of smaller stars, above some sharply-drawn vertical stripes. The American flag?

"I don't know," repeated Naryth helplessly, "but whoever did this obviously knows me." She gestured with the flag as if begging Tiani to take it away. Tiani stepped back, her eyes wide and childlike with fear. "We uh, we should go."

Her sorting complete, Naryth dusted off her hands and headed back down the hill. The coyotes had fallen silent; they took one look at the travelers and fled like scared prey before a hunter.

The pair camped a fair distance from the wreckage and started a fire. Naryth consulted her Pip-Boy map and grunted in displeasure. "We're running low on supplies," she said. "We . . . need to stop in Goodsprings."

Tiani smiled halfheartedly. "I've never been there," she said, "it should be fun." She tried to sound more enthusiastic, but the shadow of the canyon wreckage had not yet faded from her heart. Rubbing her arms, she moved a little closer to the fire. The night had turned cold, but the stars were out in multitudes, painting the sky with light.

Naryth grumbled. "I don't want to go there."

"Why not?"

The woman lit a cigarette and did not answer. Tiani tried again. "Please, Naryth, why don't you want to go to Goodsprings?"

The woman paused and lowered her cigarette. The flame consumed the dry paper greedily, but Naryth paid no attention. She tapped her boot on the ground in a restless beat; played with her collar; put a hand to her twitching mouth. Tiani reached out to touch her arm. Naryth jerked. She uttered a shaky laugh and said, "I suppose I should tell you, huh? Might as well. **"**

"When I woke up in Goodsprings, I took a couple days to recover. I had a hard time moving my hands, so I had to learn how to shoot. I told you all this. Doc Mitchell sent me to a girl named Sunny Smiles, a kind of town guardian. Sunny gave me a hunting rifle and some ammo. We practiced shooting at Sunset Sarsaparilla bottles out behind the saloon, just to get me back in the swing of things. I did okay. My head was hurting a lot, but I could deal with that. After the bottles Sunny asked me if I'd be willing to clear out some Geckos. There was a, ah . . . we . . ." Naryth shook her head vigorously as if trying to clear it. She clenched her jittery fingers together until the bones popped. Chewing on her lip, she went on. "We went out to the Goodsprings Source, where they get all their water. I screwed up. There was a woman who had come to get water and she was attacked by the Geckos . . . there was so much yelling and Sunny's dog was barking . . . and I shot . . . and I killed one of the Geckos. And then I shot again, and . . ."

"Did you kill Sunny?" Tiani asked.

Naryth shook her head. "I hit her, and she collapsed. There was blood . . . I was so freaked out. Sunny was bellowing and the other lady started _screaming_ . . . I took off. Didn't stop running until I got to Primm. Passed out in an NCR tent and woke up the next day to begin my assault on the Bison Steve."

Tiani raised her arms and put them around her friend. Naryth stiffened; Tiani began to draw away. Naryth grabbed her in a crushing hug.

Naryth smelled of sweat and leather, spilled vodka and gunpowder. It was not entirely unpleasant, especially compared to some of the scents in the Legion camps. Naryth's arms tightened around her, driving the breath from Tiani's lungs. It was an awkward hug between two uncomfortable parties, but a hug nonetheless.

A coyote howled in the distance, startling them apart. Naryth coughed and stoked the fire. Her cheeks were a bright red that had nothing to do with alcohol consumption.

"They played games with us in the camps," Tiani commented. "They gave us a test one day. They had a runaway. Usually they just pop the collar if it's a newcomer, but this one they dragged back and tied up in a tent. They took the healers from the infirmary, one at a time, and brought us to the tent, and gave us a gun. Told us that the runaway's crimes were punishable by death, and that this was the ultimate show of loyalty to Caesar." Months had passed since her imprisonment in the Legion encampment, but she still pronounced the monster's name with the hard "K" sound. "Made us put the gun to her head and pull the trigger."

"It was empty?" Naryth asked. Her voice was grave, without a trace of mockery. Silence fell. If it were not for the crackling of the fire, Tiani would swear the world had faded away, leaving them the last two creatures alive.

Tiani nodded. "We didn't know, of course, but _they_ knew. The girl was screaming and crying . . . Milo laughed," she added as a bitter afterthought.

"He's a bastard," Naryth admitted, "but he can't help the way he's been raised. Even as it is, he's not quite a Legionary. They're not supposed to use Old World technology like trucks. They're _definitely_ not supposed to _fix_ one."

"They used energy weapons," countered Tiani.

"Caesar is a hypocrite," said Naryth, "and so is Milo. But he's a little less of a maniac than, say, Vulpes Inculta."

Tiani stoked the fire but did not reply. Decanus Minderbinder definitely deviated from the archetypal Legionary, but he was still revered in their tribe for his cruelty and methods of mental torture. When it came to making others miserable, his creativity knew no bounds.

They fell to silence again, and after a while an unspoken consent passed between them. Naryth extinguished the fire while Tiani laid out the bedrolls. They slept until dawn, and set out in the morning as the sun sketched its fiery progress across the faded sky. After a few hours of walking they took a break beside an old Caravan. Tiani refilled the water bottles and Naryth cooked breakfast. They had reached the Goodsprings Source, where the water was clean and the surroundings relatively free of dangerous creatures.

An hour later, they were on the outskirts of Goodsprings. Naryth balked before walking close to the cluster of buildings, an expression of poorly-concealed terror on her face. Tiani smiled and offered her hand. Holding hands with another woman was certainly odd, but she only wanted to comfort her friend. "We can go together," she said.

Naryth wouldn't move. Only after putting on her voice changer, bandanna, hat, and goggles did she accept Tiani's offered hand and square her shoulders defiantly toward the small village. It was as though by wearing those clothes she could alter her identity.

Holding hands, the two proceeded down the road toward where the legend began.


End file.
